16

"Are those two gaywads ditching us again?" Cartman complains, his pissed off stare piercing the other tables inhabited by meaningless, irritable teenagers in this over crowded cafeteria. Ah, there they were. Stan and Kyle. Wrapped up in their saccharine affair.

"I guess so" Kenny sighs, his bony shoulders heaving tiredly. He wasn't really interested in what Stan and Kyle were doing. He wondered how embarrassed and flustered they would get if he calmly said to them one morning 'You don't have to keep it a secret any more guys, everybody knows you're fucking each other'. Obviously, Kenny had no proof that they were doing such things, but he was extremely intuitive. It's a standard trait amongst wallflowers like himself.

"Dickheads" Cartman muttered, that almost long-forgotten swell of possessiveness knotting itself tighter and tighter. He was kind of relieved, he thought that sickening, heady feeling had abandoned him long ago. How dare Kyle pay attention to somebody other than him?

Kenny smirked knowingly, his cerulean eyes fixed on his pissed off BFF. Did Cartman think he was an idiot or something? Kenny wasn't in any AP classes and people could call him a slacker if they so wished, but he wasn't stupid. And after being friends with Cartman for eleven years, Kenny thought that asshole would have realised that by now.

"Why do you care?" Kenny asked, biting his pierced lip to control his amused smile. Kenny knew. Of course he did. He didn't pretend to understand Cartman and Kyle's dysfunctional friendship. If you could call it a "friendship". He wasn't sure if Cartman and Kyle understood it either. Kyle could be roped into one of Cartman's little schemes, seemingly forgiving him for every betrayal that has occurred over the years and that constantly feverish, powerful spark would grow before they would be fighting again, using their sharp, barbed tongues and bloodied, rough fists to hurt each other once more. But that spark would still be there, a violent inferno that would one day burn them all. But the hate was intrinsic, embedded in their DNA. Sadly, they couldn't escape it if they tried. But did they really want to? The hate offered them such an addictive, maddening rush. Bittersweet and sordid.

Cartman paused, loathing himself as he began to wonder why he would care. It's not as if this was an unusual occurrence. Ever since middle school Stan and Kyle prefered their own company, laughing at their private jokes, sitting a little too close together... High school rolled around and the foundations of the fabulous four were rocked. Stan had football, though he winced and cringed at being called a "jock". Kyle had his AP classes and gained popularity through being so unfairly attractive. Though Kyle was flattered by the attention he received from girls, he wasn't really interested and found it excruciating when they batted their arachnid eyelashes at him and flirted so brazenly.

Meanwhile, Cartman and Kenny were slipping further and further down the food chain. Sliding into dangerous territory, the "nobodies" who the girls wanted to hook up with but not date (because prom kings didn't have piercings like Kenny or a criminal record and sociopathic tendencies like Cartman). Classes became meaningless and good grades became an after thought. Everyone seemed to know who they were, but being infamous isn't really a good thing. Especially when people are either too scared of you or too unimpressed by you to want to pursue your friendship.

But the four boys stuck together, it would be too weird to not hang out. All four of them were growing up, becoming different people, slowly but surely alienating themselves from each other.

Cartman kind of wished he could be somebody else, he was getting so infuriatingly apathetic that it scared him sometimes. He kind of missed the kid he used to be, because he had a lot more fire and bravado than he did now. Maybe it was just the side effects of getting older? A teenage phase he'd hopefully grow out of when he left this town. Still, there was hope. Elusive hope in the form of Kyle Broflovski. Because even though Cartman despaired over his identity crisis, just a couple of minutes fighting with Kyle reminded him of who he was. That he hadn't really changed. Kyle managed to draw that anger, arrogance, passion and stubbornness out of him so effortlessly. He craved that stupid Jew's attention, he wanted him around, needed him around and though this admission would kill him, if Kyle truly slipped out of his grip, Cartman would just be helpless.

"Fuck off, Kenny. I don't care about Kahl, he can go ahead and have dweeby, awkward sex with Stan if he wants." Cartman snapped, pouting almost childishly. "Are you gonna just sit there staring at me or are you gonna eat the first meal you've had in months?"

"My family isn't that poor, dude." Kenny replies, rolling his eyes even though it was nice having something else to eat besides poptarts and frozen waffles.

"Keep telling yourself that" Cartman mutters bitterly, ignoring Kenny's glares and how the blond was flipping him off.

While Kenny was eagerly eating one of the cafeteria's crappy cold sandwiches, Cartman let his plaintive, lost eyes hook their attention on Kyle. It was painful to think that he didn't mean half as much to Kyle as Stan did. They were super best friends after all, but Cartman had a hopeful, sneaking suspicion that he was a lot more special to Kyle than the redhead let him believe. He owed a lot to him. Cartman had saved his life three times. Sure, Kyle didn't know that but still... Cartman owed a lot to Kyle too, though the last thing he would do is thank him.

Suddenly, a pair of acidic green eyes met his through the swarm of people. Kyle's expression was confused but calm, quickly being replaced by a small, friendly smile.

Cartman smiled back, laced with cockiness and was just a tad insolent.

Kyle rolled his eyes, his smile charming and exasperated before turning back to Stan. Reminding Cartman of the way things would always be.


Cartman didn't think any good could come out of Stan and Kyle dating. Well, for him anyway.

But it turns out that it did. With Stan being promoted from best friend to boyfriend, he too had been promoted to whatever the hell he was to Kyle to something even more confusing. So he guessed he was a second choice. But he was used to that, he had pretty much felt like that all his life. He just had to rely on his overwhelming God complex to reassure him he was better than that. Plus, if being second choice meant spending more time with Kyle, then fine.

Whenever Stan had football practice, Kyle would walk home from the bus stop with Cartman. Which, to his surprise, was rather enjoyable. Sure, they would fight, they couldn't help themselves, but they could make it through a conversation without wanting to kill each other.

They talked about school;

"You know, if you're failing I could always tutor you?" Kyle suggests, knowing that this was a lost cause. No matter how far their relationship, friendship, whatever you want to call it, progressed, Cartman would never sink that low and appear to be so willingly inferior.

"I'm sure that would give your ego a nice boost, Jewboy. Like Stan doesn't do that enough for you already" Cartman replies, even though hanging out with Kyle was a pathetically wonderful notion that was difficult to dismiss. "But I don't need a tutor. That's not the reason I'm failing..."

Kyle nods, cynical and weary.

"Don't believe me, Jew?"

"I believe you. That's the worst part" Kyle explains "One of the million reasons why you suck, Cartman is that you don't try. You're so self-obsessed and stubborn that you won't compromise just a bit of effort to doing something that you don't want to do, but will pay off in the long run. You know that you're smart but you kid yourself that you're too smart to pay attention to the crap we learn at school and you just end up sabotaging all that wasted potential you have. It's kinda pathetic."

"Since when did you have me all figured out?"

"I've known you since preschool. As difficult as this may be for you to hear, you're not that complicated. You're actually pretty predictable."

"Fine, Jew. Maybe I'll start 'applying myself' or whatever you preppy sons of bitches call it and you'll wind up sitting next to me in one of your precious AP classes. Then we'll see who has the last laugh"

"You. Obviously. AP sucks balls."

They talked about Stan, weirdly;

"You and Stan gonna run for prom queen?"

"Very funny, fatass." Kyle snaps, although a smile was dying to play on his lips.

"Seriously though, you and the hippie were fucking terrible at keeping your little affair a secret. It was so obvious." Cartman tried his best to not sound bitter and jealous, but he failed. He hated that.

"Well, uh, we didn't mean to-" Kyle replies shyly, squirming, his face becoming heated. Were him and Stan really that blatant?

"Kenny said that it was only a matter of time before you guys started fucking in the cafeteria. But I knew that wasn't going to happen. You guys are total pussies. You'd be too scared to even have sex, let alone go at it in the cafeteria."

On Sundays Stan went to church, quite willingly too. Which confused Kyle.

"I don't get it, why waste your Sundays in a place that doesn't want you?" Kyle didn't say it to hurt Stan's feelings, he was just genuinely curious and a tad pissed off that Stan could put himself through that.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're gay, right? And in the bible doesn't it say that being gay isn't such a good thing? One shall not lie with the man as one lies with the woman and all that?"

Stan blushes and rolls his eyes "Yeah. But there's subtext to that, Kyle. You just don't get it." Stan tries to explain, but he doesn't want to talk about interpretations of the bible and how he feels obliged to go to church and would probably be very anxious if he skipped even one Sunday. Call it Catholic guilt or whatever.

"Seems pretty clear to me." Kyle mumbles.

"Hey! You're one to talk!" Stan says, very proud of his realisation, he never won an argument with Kyle. Ever. "Doesn't it say that in the Torah, too? But you're still a Jew, right? Kyle, I've seen you break at least 80% of all those laws you're supposed to follow. So how is that different from me having an amazing boyfriend who I love very much whilst still going to church with my family every Sunday and taking communion and going to confession and feeling a lot better about myself because of it?"

"It's very different, Stan" Kyle replies.

"How?"

"Because Christians have Hell and Jews don't."

So while Stan was trying his best to be a good Catholic, Kyle found himself lonely and bored. So he'd go to Cartman's house and play video games on Sundays. Cartman and his mom stopped going to church five years ago and he was secretly relieved, he hated sitting in that damp, cold building listening to boring sermons and how he was damned to Hell no matter how many sins he atoned for or confessed. Spending his Sundays with Kyle was way more fun, even though the redhead perhaps stayed over there longer than he was supposed to. But Cartman never kicked him out. How could he when Kyle was giving him his undivided attention?

"Shouldn't you be walking home with your boyfriend, Jew?" Cartman asks, though he would have prefered it if Kyle walked home with him everyday. There was always this disappointed, lingering goodbye when they reached Kyle's house, it was very unnerving. Especially when Cartman looked back wistfully and saw that Kyle was still by his door, staring at him. They both would snap out of it, embarrassed and try to forget that the awkward encounter ever happened.

"I guess, but he's got football practice" Kyle replies, the flush tingling his neck and ears. That was always what Kyle said when Cartman inquired about Stan's whereabouts, "football practice". Kyle was starting to hang out with Cartman too much to keep using that excuse. But he was too proud to just tell the truth, that he was starting to feel something else for the boy other than hate.


"Doesn't the town seem to get smaller and smaller the older you get?" Kyle asks, staring out over the frigid, clear water of Stark's Pond. The halcyon rays of the sun struggling through the pregnant clouds.

Cartman had walked to Kyle's house at 8AM on a Saturday because his mom was having breakfast with some one night stand downstairs and he really, really didn't want to meet this stranger whose name he wouldn't need to memorize.

Kyle had obviously been sleeping when Cartman knocked on his door, the irritating noise splitting the lethargic, fatigued block in Kyle's head and making him even more cranky.

It was a cruelly cold morning and while Cartman waited for Kyle, freezing his balls off, he continued to knock at the door impatiently until he heard Kyle fumble with the lock.

It was so unfair that Kyle actually looked sexy in the morning. Even when his hair was messy and he was half asleep, he still looked so effortlessly beautiful, so nonchalant and seductive. It was crazy. Couldn't he have a single minute where he wasn't so throat-slittingly attractive? It would make Cartman's life a lot easier. Yes, Cartman had realised that Kyle was hot and he just couldn't get that damn daywalker out of his inappropriate thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" Kyle sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, my mom is probably blowing a guy in my kitchen as we speak and I need to kill some time. So you're coming with me to Stark's Pond, okay?"

"Fine" Kyle laughs, he couldn't help but find this whole thing funny. "I just need to get dressed."

"Cool...What are you waiting for? Get the lead out, Jew!" Cartman snaps, pushing Kyle out of the way so he could come inside.

Kyle scowled, before storming upstairs to get dressed.

"Yeah. I just want to graduate so I can get out of here." Cartman replies, smiling fondly at the reflection of him and Kyle in the water. It rippled and broke into colourful fragments, eventually finding itself again.

Kyle nods, combing his curls with his fingers before his tired eyes meet the pond and he smiles at how Cartman is looking at him through the water.

"Where would you go?" Kyle asks, almost whispers.

Cartman shrugs. "Everywhere. I wanna go everywhere."

"Sounds good" Kyle laughs, knowing somehow that Cartman would find a way to indeed see everything and go everywhere. That was just the kind of person he was, reckless and impulsive and Kyle wished he could just dream about nothing, an empty, wide road which led to the horizon. But Kyle couldn't think like that, he couldn't just let the world and all it's problems go.

"What about you?" Cartman's voice snaps Kyle out of his daydream.

"I don't know, but I so wanna get my own place. I mean, I love my family and all but I'm just starting to feel a little claustrophobic." Kyle replies.

"Well, after I've travelled around the world, you can come live with me." Cartman smiles, staring up at Kyle with fond, hopeful eyes. But Kyle wasn't looking at him. Cartman wondered whether Kyle ever truly was.

"Live with you?" Kyle asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Yeah. Seriously Jew, our house will be badass! It'll even be bigger than Token's!"

Kyle looks up at Cartman and smirks "Okay, tell me more about this amazing house..."

"Obviously it's gonna be huge! So huge that we'll need maids and butlers and all that shit. And inside we'll have a swimming pool and a movie theatre-"

"We should have a pool outside too. You know, for summer. We could have a grotto like Hugh Hefner has in the Playboy mansion... Oh, and we need a big garden so on the fourth of July we can have awesome parties and a place for everybody to watch the fireworks!"

"Everything has to look super expensive too. If we become billionaires we have to show people just how wealthy we are and how much better we are than those peasants. Everything in the house will be gilded and we'll have Chopard diamond chandeliers in every room!"

"How are we gonna afford all that?" Kyle laughs, the lilt of the star-spangled banner was accompanied by the sound of birds and distant SUVs. The shadow of lucid fireworks flourished in his vision. It all seemed so real and achievable, but it was ridiculous. Yet, it seemed so perfect. Him and Cartman and the nameless guests that took advantage of their hospitality watching the display with patriotism and contentment.

"I have a business idea that will make us super rich, Kahl. I'll be the CEO and you'll be in charge of the bookkeeping! We'll be unstoppable!"

"Sure we will, Cartman." Kyle nods, running his eyes over the taller boy as Cartman stared out into the horizon thoughtfully.

Kyle imagined the fourth of July, the long and lazy summers at the centre of paradise. This fictional house that him and Cartman had imagined and elaborated on, but longed for. The days would be sizzling, stretching out until the sky flushed from an oceanic blue to a powdery pink. The nights would be intoxicating and humid, the air clouded with incense.

The magnesium sun would spill in through the wide windows, kissing every gilded corner of Kyle's room. And when he went downstairs, Cartman would be there and they'd spend the day doing nothing, playing video games and watching movies, drinking beers while looking out at the massive lawn and the pool winking stars at the twinkling sun.

"Hey" Kyle's thoughts are interrupted by this unsure, soft voice and fingers ghosting his arm. Kyle flinches before staring into the sweet, caramel suns. "We'd be great together, right?"

Kyle nods, even though he loved Stan what he felt for Cartman was a love way more consuming and unconditional. It was something he'd been denying and pushing away for years, but he now realised it was completely unavoidable. A love laced with rage and spite. Cartman had done so many bad things in his life but Kyle hadn't abandoned him just yet and he doubted he ever would.


It turned out that Cartman did need to remember that guy's name. The guy's name was Pete, unprepossessing, bland, weak Pete. Cartman hated him. He didn't like any of his mom's boyfriends, why should he bother being civil to them when they were going to walk out on his mom in a couple of months anyway? It had been the same routine since he was five, his mom would meet a guy, convince herself that she was in love with him and then that douchebag would leave with some pathetic, clichéd excuse and Cartman had to watch his mom cry and mope around until she pulled herself together.

Cartman had built an intolerance to these identikit assholes. But Pete he especially detested, his false sense of grandeur and the belief he had that he was somewhat different to the dozens of guys who his mom had been with was laughable.

He had his first encounter with Pete a couple of weeks after that weird and wonderful morning with Kyle at Stark's Pond. Cartman had answered the door to some awkward, pasty dickhead, he knew his mom was going out on a date but he didn't think it was with this loser.

"Hi, I'm here to pick Liane up for our date" Jesus Christ, his mom really was lonely, her standards had slipped dramatically.

"Who are you?" Cartman had asked, eyeing this prick up and down.

"Pete, hasn't your mom mentioned me at all? Huh, obviously not. But I certainly know who you are! Eric, right? Your mom has told me so much about you! Well, it's nice to finally meet the man of the house." Pete had nervously extended his hand, pleading for Cartman to show him some kind of acceptance. Pete was already terrified of this kid.

Instead Cartman grimaced at that clammy hand and replied dismissively "Yeah, whatever. Nice to meet you, I guess." He knew he was going to make this guy's life a living hell.

His mom and Pete had gone away to Vale for the week, stupidly thinking that Cartman wouldn't take advantage of the fact that he had a free house for seven days.

Parties were always greatly anticipated by the teenagers of South Park, after all, what else was there to do? There was Denver, but who wants to haul their ass to Denver every weekend?

It seemed like the high school student body from the Park County area had turned up at Cartman's doorstep on a cold, boring Friday night. So he let them all in, already too drunk to care if they trashed his house, they could burn the fucker down as far as he was concerned.

Cartman stood by the keg, careful not to get sucked into the crowd of shitfaced strangers who were either dancing, vomiting or unashamedly getting to second base in the middle of his living room. All so self-absorbed and oblivious. You could taste the moist, humid sweat and alcohol, every scent of every drink coalescing into something potent and overpowering.

Cartman watched, indifferent to it all. Kenny had abandoned him for some girl about half an hour ago and Cartman told him that he could take her anywhere but his room. He continued to inhale the cheap beer, wanting something stronger, the taste had been weakened, the drink may as well have been amylase to him now. Regurgitated and lukewarm.

Still, he wished for something incredible to happen, for the scenery to change. Only half content with watching the world go by.

Kyle had lost Stan by 11. He should have been angry, but all he could do was laugh.

He wandered around Cartman's house aimlessly, just looking for somebody to stand with. He didn't want to be on his own. It sucked.

After bravely pushing through the swarm of feverish, writhing bodies he saw Cartman. It was almost pitiful, how he was leaning against the keg, so uncaring and aloof.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asked, his voice threadbare over the heavy drone of the music.

"Drinking. Trying to enjoy myself" Cartman replied, he didn't even bother raising his voice. He didn't care if Kyle heard him.

Kyle rolled his eyes and punched Cartman softly "You need to lighten up, dude. You seriously can't be having a good time standing here..."

"What else am I supposed to do?" Cartman asks, staring disapprovingly into his half empty red party cup.

"Hang out with me?" Kyle suggests. And in that moment, Cartman felt like all the other self-absorbed, deluded teenagers who were wrecking his living room. All the party guests vanished from his hooded eyes, only him and Kyle remained.

His reflection drained green in Kyle's mesmerizing eyes, he saw himself stare back, fascinated. But he also saw Kyle. Who had never looked more captivating.

"Okay" Cartman whispers, his throat closing tightly around that weak word.

"Good! Alright, first of all, you need to get away from this stupid thing" Kyle begins, glancing at the small barrel before saying "You may think it makes you look cool and mysterious but it doesn't. It makes you look like a douchebag with sand in his vagina."

Before Cartman could complain or answer back, Kyle had grabbed his wrist and led him away from the keg.

"Where's Stan?" Cartman asked, rather shouted. Damn, the music was loud.

"I don't know" Kyle answered quickly, squirming at the guilt that had stolen his breath.

The couch was crowded with piles of intoxicated, sweat drenched bodies sprawled across each other with no intention of moving.

So instead the two boys went to the sparsely populated kitchen. There was a guy sleeping by the fridge, a girl with mascara streaked down her face, fixing her make up in a compact and another girl was throwing up into the sink.

Cartman drank because he couldn't think of anything else to do, while Kyle was drinking in the vain hope that it would wash away the guilt. And it worked, to some degree.

By midnight, they found themselves in the corner of Cartman's living room, trying their best to drown out the irritable drunken cheers and hollow laughs. They weren't sure what they were talking about, but they didn't want to stop. Their words were slurred and shouted as the music permeated their senses, numbing them from everything else. Pawing at each other's clothes and roping each other in for possibly meaningless exchanges, clinging to each other helplessly.

The small, greedy pleasures escaped the music, pinpricks in their own resolves. The smell of each other's clothes, the whisper of each other's lips against their ears and the chill that accompanied it, the hot, sweet breaths on each other's necks when they lazily breached into the comfort of their messy embrace.

An hour later Kyle had captured Cartman's mouth in a curious, hungry kiss. A tremor of pleasurable surprise released the caged stars behind Kyle's eyes at the feeling of Cartman's plush lips on his. Cartman whimpered, hating how one kiss from Kyle could make him buckle, his pulse quiver furiously and make him feel like something white-hot and molten had imploded gloriously in his core.

Their eyes were damp and hazy when they separated. Kyle raked his fingers through Cartman's chestnut hair, his pensive eyes infatuated with him. Cartman just looked so broken and Kyle wanted to apologise and tell him that everything was okay, but he couldn't find the words. Besides, he didn't trust his mouth at the moment. Cartman's refusal to look at him was painful, the brunette cast his eyes down, conflicted and confused.

Kyle whispered for Cartman to look at him, he pleaded softly, wrapping his arms around Cartman's shoulders. Their lips centimetres apart and exchanging shallow, nervous breaths. Kyle didn't know if this appetite for Cartman was temporary, he didn't even know how it appeared, overwhelming and demanding, but he wanted this night to be great, it had to be worth it. Cartman finally met his eyes, brooding and dark, almost frightening. But they were still so alluring.

After staring at Kyle's lips for a few minutes, Cartman pulled Kyle by his shirt, their mouths colliding.

Their kisses were marred by brief groans and single-noted cries of effort, silenced by their tongues or the bites at the plump of their lips. The beat of the music thumped and sang tuneless, whittling the two boys down to ecstasy as the heavy, searing heat in their groins was becoming unbearable. Their fingers trembled, fevered, over new skin, clawing and tracing.

It may have been an hour, but it might as well have been a single second or an eternity. Nothing was making sense, the only thing that was truly palpable was the other boy's lips against their own, the heat of their touches and the grazes of teeth on each other's necks.

Cartman's aching mouth breached from Kyle's, the sentence he huskily whispered dripped, cold and bittersweet down Kyle's spine. "Come on Jewboy, we're going upstairs"

Kyle nodded mindlessly, his body already limp and all he can really feel is Cartman roughly holding his hips and his mouth on his neck.

Kyle followed Cartman, his eyes trained on his sneakers, his face burning at his obvious arousal and his kiss-swollen lips.

The party simmered unimportantly downstairs when they reached the haven of Cartman's room. He locked the door and pressed Kyle up against it, grumbling when the door handle bored into his back. The kisses were slower and deeper, far less feverish and hungry. Kyle smiled dreamily at Cartman's gentleness, secretly hoping that this kind of affection was only saved for him.

Cartman wondered if Kyle actually knew or even cared about the ramifications of what he was doing, how if Stan ever found out a whole number of things would be broken, damaged possibly beyond repair. But Cartman didn't feel guilty (he rarely did about most things) and he figured that if he could have one night, one memory of how it felt to have Kyle all to himself then it would outweigh the consequences. Kyle was that wish, that want for something incredible to happen. Even miscreants like him deserved some good fortune.

Cartman's tongue trailed down to Kyle's neck, possessively leaving his mark in the form of passionate, vicious lovebites. Kyle steadied himself, his eyes rolling to the ceiling and he moaned desperately, Cartman's name was lost and fleeting in the back of his throat. Any guilty, ashamed thoughts of Stan were tenuous and he hated himself for how selfish and careless he was being but this all just felt so good and right. After all this time, Kyle was terrified that Cartman could make him feel this way. It was as almost as if this what he'd been subconsciously longing for, what he'd been waiting patiently for all these years.

Kyle wrapped his legs around Cartman's waist, showing no hesitance as Cartman carried him to his bed. The celestial glow of the moon was twinned with the streetlight's rays, the hues spilling in through the window.

The ethereal kisses Kyle littered on Cartman's neck were so tender that it emptied Cartman's mind completely. Everything and everybody else in the world was forgotten as soon as Cartman laid Kyle down on his bed.


Suddenly, it was happening.

Blurred and endlessly breathtaking. The most impassioned hour of their still very young lives. And even though in the back of heads, they knew that there would be more nights like this, with strangers who could easily steal their hearts, now it was this moment, this night to surrender to.

Kyle was really the only vice in Cartman's life, his only true addiction. And this was his greatest fix yet, the one that drove him crazy, one that he knew he would crave for. So obsessed, addicted and in awe of this boy who he had known, hated and loved all of his life. Unattainable, bittersweet Kyle. Whose tears still clung to his scarlet lashes. The guilt had dissolved long ago (though was it really there to begin with? Kyle wanted it to be) along with any other sensible and rational thought. He told himself he was sorry, hating how he wasn't.

The minutes slipped out of their grasp, the party a muddled afterthought that neither of them cared about. All Kyle could really process was Cartman, his taste in his mouth, his kisses drying on his skin and the feel of him.

But Kyle also saw the fourth of July. The fireworks whistled and screeched in the ecstatic, frenzied recesses of his mind and he soared as high as they did.


It was still dark when Kyle woke up, the moon had somewhat faltered and the trembling, unmistakable music had stopped, instead being replaced by a stream of murmured talking and shoes slapping against the cold side-walk. The party was over. And Kyle felt like shit.

He groaned, too distracted by his headache and dry mouth than he was by anything else. Like the fact that he had cheated on his boyfriend with a sociopath.

The pillow that he was loosely cradling looked so comforting and when he rested his exhausted, confused head on it, the embers of the night's events started to glow. Kyle smiled tiredly, inhaling that sweet, cinnamon smell. He thought of Cartman, fond, exciting thoughts that were tinged with that always present irritation and annoyance.

It was then that he realised there was empty space next to him.

"Cartman?" Kyle mumbled, his voice rough and sleepy.

Like an answered prayer, the door opened, letting the light flood in. Unusually welcoming.

"Cartman" Kyle repeated, easily slipping back into calling him by his last name. He had moaned his first name for most of the night. "Where have you been?"

"Kicking everybody out. It's 4AM." Cartman replied, his voice groaning with the need to sleep.

"Oh" The syllable out of Kyle's mouth before he could stop it.

"Go back to sleep, Jew" Cartman instructed, almost finding Kyle's obedience funny. He just closed his eyes without complaint.

Cartman lay on his bed in his t-shirt and jeans. Sleeping was his top priority and he couldn't waste anymore time being awake otherwise he would turn murderous. He hoped that Kyle wouldn't insist on getting up early and waking him up as well. He was definitely not a morning person.

So he lay on his bed, over the covers. The mild darkness of his room being replaced by shadows that were even more lucid.

That was when he felt a surely loving hand, tread over his hesitant chest, tracking his breathing. Slender fingers opened up like a rose over the roof of his heart and although Cartman would kiss every beautiful digit, he refrained.


"I don't know what I'm supposed to say..." Kyle mumbled, his face flushing and his eyes fixed on his nervous, fidgeting hands.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just that, I've never been anybody's one night stand before... But you have, so I'm kinda relying on your expertise, here." Kyle teases, relaxing a little when he sees Cartman roll his eyes and his usual arrogant, wicked smile.

"Shut up, dude! You make it sound like I'm a slut but I'm not!" Cartman replies. "I'm not my mom..."

Kyle shrugs and points out "You kinda are."

"Fuck off, Jewboy" Cartman smirks before shoving Kyle. Naturally, Kyle had to shove him back. It's what they did. They pissed each other off. And it wasn't long before they were both play-fighting like little kids, forgetting that they had very grown up things to talk about. Though maybe that's why they were play-fighting in the first place? They loathed the thought of having to talk about last night.

After the awkward few minutes of Kyle getting dressed and Cartman trying his hardest to not stare, both of them sat on the floor at the bottom of Cartman's bed. Partly defeated and the other part of them was just so confused and fickle, flitting from emotion to emotion. The silence was excruciating, the two boys staring into space, lost and somewhat ashamed, their already unsteady heartbeats worsening when they caught each other's eyes.

Obviously he could be the only one to make me feel like this. The two of them thought. Why has he got such a fucking tight hold on me?

"We can't tell anyone." Kyle finally says, once the joking is over. His voice sounds so urgent and yet deflated.

"I know" Cartman mutters, disappointed. Staring down at his hands like they have the ability to make all the complication and hurt go away.

"You know what the craziest part is? The worst part? That last night, I couldn't even begin to think about... Stan. I knew that I was being selfish and cruel but all I could really think about was you. It was like you were all there's ever been, you know? I'm probably not making sense but whatever... Even now I'm thinking about Stan and all I feel is panic and guilt. That's it." Kyle explains so matter-of-factly that it freaks Cartman out slightly. But the one sentence that he knew would make this whole thing sweeter was But all I could really think about was you. It was like you were all there's ever been.

"Are you in love with him?" Cartman asks uneasily, dreading the answer. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he felt for his own sanity, he needed to ask it.

"Yeah" Kyle nods, his sad, apologetic smile making Cartman's heart weep. It was something he had never felt before, an emotion so weak and pathetic, but he guessed that he would have to start getting used it. It was bound to occur daily.

"I'm sorry, Kahl." Cartman mutters, though he doesn't know why. He hates that word.

"Don't. It's okay. We just got carried away, that's all" Kyle smiles reassuringly before adding softly, almost accidentally "Besides, what happened last night was... Well it's nothing you should have to apologise for. It was actually, kind of, amazing."

"Damn right it was." Cartman smirks.

Kyle blushes and smiles back, thinking about how last night that wonderful sensation of terror and arousal clashed with the hidden, repressed affection he had felt for Cartman since the moment they met.

"But we can't let it happen again." Kyle warns, a twinge of disappointment in his voice, suddenly serious.

"Right" Cartman replies, shattered.

"Okay, so we'll make a pact" Kyle begins "A pact that I, Kyle Broflovski and you, Eric Cartman will never ever have sex with each other again for the rest of our lives."

"Deal" Cartman grins, too caught up in Kyle's adorable goofiness that the saddening realisation didn't hit him until later. After Kyle had gone home and he was left to clean up everyone's mess from that stupid God damn party.


Kyle kept to his word and didn't tell Stan a thing.

The malicious guilt that Kyle had abandoned, started to repair itself with a vengeance and to combat this, Kyle tried his hardest to be the best boyfriend he could be. It hurt him that Stan was so oblivious, so good and kind. It hurt Kyle even more to think that he didn't deserve this, that Stan should be with somebody who would treat him the way he should be treated. Self-loathing is a destructive, horrible storm. And when the downpour stops, you're still left with the soaking ground, the shards of glass that could create a new wound any second.

Stan had called Kyle the day after the party and Kyle could barely hear Stan's voice over the torrential rain.

"Dude, I'm sorry I ditched you at Cartman's party."

"Forget it, Stan. I'm okay" Kyle replied, the severity of his lie and the saline quality of his words nicking his flesh. He wanted to tell Stan that he wasn't okay and that he was sorry, so sorry for what he did.

"You know, I tried looking for you..."

"You did?"

"Yeah, but I was pretty wasted so it didn't go so well. But I guess I'm paying the price now, my head hurts like Hell and I would kill for some fucking aspirin..."

"I can come over if you want?" Kyle suggests, hoping that by being a good boyfriend and taking care of Stan will wash some of this asphyxiating guilt away.

"Nah, don't do that. I'm all gross and sick and stuff." Stan replies and Kyle can tell that Stan is probably pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing in self-pity.

"You could never look gross, Stan."

"Thanks" Stan laughs softly under his breath. "I need to sleep so I'll talk to you later."

"Okay" Kyle begins and before Stan can hang up he says "Dude, wait-"

"Yeah?"

"You know that" Kyle starts and then swallows the aching, guilty lump that had risen in his throat "You know that I love you, right?"

"Of course I do" Stan laughs "I love you too"


Cartman, however, couldn't keep his mouth shut. The excitement of the night and the disappointment of the morning were nauseating waves that embraced and retreated from the shore of his mind and he knew that if he didn't say something to someone then he'd end up killing himself. Which was a tad extreme but that was just the kind of guy he was.

And the person who had listened intently to Cartman's rants for years was lying on a bare mattress, smoking a joint with the window open. Cartman wondered how Kenny hadn't frozen yet, the malnourished blond wasn't even shivering.

"Kenny, seriously? It's the middle of the day!"

"Spare me the lectures. May I remind you that this is my house and my brother's weed. You have none of your precious 'authoritah' over here, champ." Kenny retorted, managing to form complete, coherent sentences even though his red eyes suggested that whatever he was smoking was pretty strong. Cartman scowled, he hated it when Kenny was stoned, that asshole was more obnoxious and infuriating than usual. Cartman wrinkled his nose in disgust as Kenny took a deep, indulgant drag. "Not that I don't appreciate visitors, but what are you doing here?"

"You can't tell anybody what I'm about to tell you. Especially Kahl because if he finds out that I told you then we're both screwed" Cartman warns.

"I'm totally confused." Kenny replies, rolling his eyes before taking a deep drag. "So why don't you just tell me what's going on?"

"Alright" Cartman mutters quietly, fascinated with his sneakers. "It's just that... Last night I kinda had sex with Kahl."

When Cartman finally met Kenny's eyes, they weren't filled with disbelief or anger that Cartman could do such a thing when Kyle was dating Stan... Then again, Kenny knew full well that Cartman didn't give a shit about anybody else's feelings. Sometimes not even his own. Still, Kenny's chilled, aqua eyes were just indifferent, toying with some sick amusement.

"Huh" Kenny replied, gazing out the window. Deep in pointless thought.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Cartman snaps, God he fucking hated Kenny. "Did you fucking hear me? This is a huge fucking deal, you deadbeat dickhole! Say something!"

"Well, it's about time." Kenny mumbles.

"What?"

"Come on, dude! There's so much tension between you two that it's crazy, it's so painfully obvious! I'm just surprised that it's taken you this long... I thought you two would have tied each other up and angrily had at it years ago-"

"Really?" Cartman interrupts, thinking about every fight him and Kyle ever had and all those confusing, yet perfect emotions he felt.

Kenny nods. "Yep. I mean, I knew that Kyle and Stan liked each other but, I dunno... It was just this weird energy, or like, a feeling around you two, I can't explain it. But in the back of my mind I always thought that you and Kyle would act on it. You know, like Stan and Kyle would be the perfect couple and then you would be the mistress and you and Kyle would have a passionate liasion... Guess I was right."

"Okay, first, I'm not nor will I ever be Kahl's mistress" Cartman snaps, glaring at Kenny in his usual, sociopathic, death-inducing way. The blond simply shrugs his shoulders in a thinly veiled apology.

"It's just that, fuck, I... I don't know if I like how he makes me feel." Cartman admits, even telling Kenny this was weird, it was something he struggled to admit to himself. "Sometimes it's the best feeling ever and then sometimes it just makes me feel like shit."

Cartman didn't want Kenny to feel any kind of sympathy for him, the almost surprised look on Kenny's face was enough to make Cartman squirm. Kenny can tell that Cartman is trying to forget this moment where he actually opened up to someone about his feelings, so he changed the subject.

"Must suck to be Stan, huh?" Kenny sighs. Cartman thought the very opposite was true, judging by his intimate experience with Kyle, Stan was a very lucky guy.

"Why do you feel bad for that asshole?!"

"Because he's my friend." Kenny snaps. "And he's your friend too."

"I don't fucking know about that." Cartman mumbles indignantly, sitting on the edge of Kenny's bed.

Kenny rolls his eyes and stares out over the town, past the doll houses and the small, insignificant cars going at their own dull pace. Past the army of evergreens with their ribbons of white and to the silhouettes of mountains, where gold meets blue. Everything was so quiet and ordinary. It was actually quite nice. But here he was, smoking weed and dealing with his insane best friend's problems.

"So how was it?"

"What?" Cartman asks, snapping out of his selfish thoughts.

"You and Kyle. How was it?" Kenny asked, shuffling closer to Cartman.

"Good" Cartman barely says, a small smile appearing on his face "Really great."


Realisations are tricky things. They can mar you with disappointment, fear or confusion. They can fill you with pride, relief and self-assurance. But they will most certainly leave you surprised. Not even the smartest person can see them coming.

You'll never forget the feeling either.

Cartman realised that he was hopelessly, deeply, tragically in love with Kyle one week after his party.

Stan was taking them all to school in his second-hand SUV that his parents had bought him after he passed his driving test. No longer would the four of them have to freeze their asses off at the bus stop during the coldest time of the day and then sit on an overcrowded, loud bus that was older than they were.

Naturally, Cartman and Kenny had to sit in the back so Stan could sit next to his darling boyfriend.

When Kyle sat in his designated seat and was greeted with a brief, gentle kiss from Stan, Cartman wished that he was on the bus. He had to be anywhere but here, he bit the inside of his mouth and balled his fists when he felt that horrid heat pricking his eyes. He hadn't cried since he was a kid. And he wasn't going to start now in front of Stan, Kyle and Kenny. He squirmed at Kenny's pitiful eyes.

He wanted to punch Stan, punch Kyle and then maybe kiss him afterward. It was just a kiss. Except that it wasn't. It felt like hearing the person you love and admire most in the world say the most cruel, horrible words they could think of to you. Cartman had seen Kyle and Stan kiss more than once, before he just rolled his eyes at their sappiness and he did feel some envy, but things were different now because his feelings for Kyle were that much stronger, clearer and painful.

When it was finally over, Kyle caught Cartman's eyes and Cartman watched stoically as they turned more and more apologetic, brimming with shame. Good, Cartman thought, you should feel bad. You or your precious boyfriend have no idea what you've done. I fucking hate you. But that's why I love you so much and why I'm never going to win.

Cartman resented them both in that moment.


Really, Kyle should have seen it coming.

That when he kissed Stan, Cartman was at the forefront of his mind. These addictive, parasitic thoughts thrived and multiplied until Kyle eventually gave up. Because it felt so sickeningly good to think about Cartman rather than blocking him out completely.

Kyle had noticed things about Cartman, the things that were always there that now seemed so fragile and important. Like Cartman's smile, that cunning, arrogant smile whose wickedness never wavered. Those lips that felt so molten on Kyle's skin. His smirk which alternated between cruel and shy.

His eyes. Such a strange colour, luteous and honeyed. Canary and gold. Kyle could count every gleaming hue. The colours twisted viciously, shone vividly. The most expressive eyes Kyle had ever seen. A looking-glass into every repressed emotion Cartman had ever felt, including some deep-rooted affection for Kyle that he only noticed when they were kissing heavily in his unmade bed, shivering and caving in to each other's touches...

His nose, his laugh, the way he said Kyle's name, the bitter quality of his voice when they fought, the sun drenched storm of his eyes when he was angry, his sense of humour, his way with words, his height. Kyle was tall but Cartman was taller, his height compensated for his weight and he began to even out somewhat, all that was left was puppy fat clinging to him, which Kyle found way too adorable. He especially loved how shy and uncomfortable Cartman was on that infamous Friday night, though he really had nothing to be embarrassed about. Because he'd changed a lot. And when Kyle actually complimented him, Cartman didn't have some arrogant, cocky retort. He simply rolled his eyes, an awkward, sweet smile spread across his face and he blushed. Kyle couldn't believe that Cartman actually blushed. It made his heart strum a little faster.

His hair, his broad shoulders, the smell of his clothes, his hands. The way they ran through his hair, how he walked with them in his jacket pockets and how they touched Kyle so possesively and wantonly, how his fingers bored into Kyle's skin, how fucking manipulative he could be with those damn things.

But Kyle didn't like the distance between them. How when they hung out his feelings wouldn't let up and although they could still joke around with each other and argue passionately in the same breath, Kyle hated being so unfulfilled, so pathetically yearning. So unrequited.

He didn't know how longer he could keep just admiring Cartman from afar.

26

Stan and Kyle had broken up two days before Stan left for college in California. Kyle had offers from many colleges, in numerous states, but he chose to stay in Colorado. If only for one person. And he hated it, he hated this delusion of staying here, patiently waiting for Cartman to be his knight in shining armour and rescue him from the prison of unrequited love. It had been two years. Two happy years with Stan and two painfully wonderful years becoming closer and closer with Cartman just hoping for another opportunity to have him again. And now him and Stan were splitting up in the only way they knew how (amicably and maturely, every vow that they would stay super best friends was completely sincere) and Cartman wasn't here.

It felt like the cruel punchline to a mildly funny joke.

Cartman had been gone for months, shunning college applications and good grades to earn easy, fast cash. He assured a concerned, anxious Kyle at the beginning of the summer that he'd be gone "two weeks, tops." Two weeks turned into a month. Which then turned into four. Kyle so desperately wanted to know what kind of business Cartman was involved in, though he had a strong suspicion that it was something illegal. Cartman didn't disclose any information, he didn't want Kyle to have a heart attack and die on him. Still, they called each other everyday. Kyle out of worry, Cartman out of a childish need to brag about all the cool places he had been, slowly accomplishing his goal of seeing everything and going everywhere. Though the real reason for these phonecalls, that the both of them only whispered to themselves, was that they insanely missed each other. Even if their sleep was interrupted by the inconvenience of time zones, they didn't give a fuck. Hearing each other's voices, tangled in phone lines, was enough to soothe the ferocious craving, stir something vividly human in their core. Their usual exchanges seemed so much more exciting now that they were miles apart. Both of them had considered bringing up the possibility of phone sex even though it would go against the pact they had made. But the tension was unbearable. Kyle guessed he had Stan to relieve that, but the thought of Cartman finding his own relief with somebody else made him feel nauseous.

The four boys' first Christmas away from South Park rolled around and since they were all visiting family during the holiday season, they obviously put aside a considerable amount of time to spend with their best friends. God knows they all missed each other, but they didn't say anything. Neither Kyle or Cartman mentioned to Stan and Kenny that they still talked on the phone every single day and that Cartman had visited Kyle numerous times when he was taking a break from "working". It was kind of like having an affair and as thrilling as that seemed to the both of them, the less romantic connotations they could associate with their friendship, the better. But it wasn't just Cartman and Kyle that had kept secrets. Stan showed up at Cartman's house three days before Christmas with his very own Mormon. Stan looked so giddy when he smiled "Guys, you remember Gary, right? He's studying at Long Beach too! Isn't that crazy?" How could they forget Gary? Handsome, intelligent, charismatic, too nice to really hate Gary.

Still, Cartman wouldn't let Stan's new beau outshine his stories of the countless places he'd visited. And just to prove a point, Cartman's Christmas gifts to his friends had all been purchased in the Bahamas, three ivory Tikis, the most extravagant Christmas presents they had ever had. Cartman vowed to himself years ago that if he ever had the fortune of having, well, a fortune then he was going to show it off.

The next day, Cartman invited himself over to Kyle's house for breakfast and surprised him with one more gift. An Emerald encrusted brooch with a golden, italic K sweeping through the jewels elegantly. "Think of it as a Hanukkah present." Cartman had smiled softly, Kyle tried his best not to cry, he wasn't that sentimental. Kyle was captivated by the piece of jewellery, his fingers traced the gleaming shell and made him want to cry even more. He didn't know why he was crying. It was always a shock to see Cartman being so nice and generous. He grabbed Kyle's wrist and began to explain coolly "I'm not expecting you to wear it because it's kinda girly but... You're really important to me, Kahl and I'd like to think I'm important to you too. So when we're apart you can take comfort in the fact that a part of me is with you... Besides from my kidney, that is. And I can know that a little piece of me, a good, honest piece of me is here with you. So that way we'll never be alone, because, honestly? I fucking hate it when we're apart." Kyle didn't know where he found the self control to not blurt out a heartfelt, tear-stained "I love you" because he did. He truly did. It was something that made him appreciate Cartman so much more when they were together and break him horribly when he left. Instead, he placed a gentle kiss on Cartman's lips. Cartman was so madly infatuated with Kyle and had grown so used to being nothing more than what he was, he didn't demand more or make a wildly romantic gesture. Kyle whispered his thanks and love into Cartman's mouth, before Cartman kissed Kyle's adorable, crooked nose in response.

But that was eight years ago and they're not kids in their first year of college anymore. They're twenty-six and nothing has really changed. Kyle still has that brooch, stored in a magpie's nest of cherished things. Cartman was crossing more cities and places off his list (though he had an apartment just around the corner from Kyle's in Denver. He lived in the kind of apartment Kyle wished he could afford, but being a lowly first year hospital intern, it would be a while before he could even think about putting a deposit down.) The four boys still met up every Christmas. Cartman and Kyle were closer than ever, though frustratingly still friends. Oh, and they still spoke every day.

"Hello?" Kyle spoke groggily into the phone pressed to his ear. It was 5AM and he was sleeping through a slight lull in the hospital's activity. All he needed was the dreaded beep of a pager and he'd be up again. He hated the stiff mattress of the on call room bed, he hated the stuffiness of his scrubs when he slept. In fact, he hated everybody and everything at this precise moment in time.

"Morning, Jewboy." Was Cartman's breezy yet cocky reply.

"Hey" Kyle sighed, yawning slightly as he rubbed his eyes and sat up on the uncomfortable bed. "How is it in Rio?"

"Great. Warm. You'd love it here." Cartman replies.

"I'm sure I would... You're so lucky, you've been to New York and Rome and Tokyo and God knows where else and you're not even thirty yet. It isn't fair." Kyle pouts and furrows his eyebrows. He'd love to be in Brazil with Cartman, with the sun and the beach and the smell of linoleum an unpleasant, distant memory.

Cartman chuckles down the phone "Well, would it make you feel better if I told you that I've almost been arrested a gazillion times?"

"Then why don't you just give it up?" Kyle asks irritably. He had asked Cartman this question thousands of times, it ranged from drunken begs and pleads to subtle hints during every visit and phonecall.

"I can't. It's too easy and I'm good at it." Was always Cartman's matter-of-fact reply, shrugging even though Kyle can't see it. "Besides, the money's good."

"But what if you meet the woman of your dreams and you get married?" Kyle teases, though he feels slighty envious of this mystery wife he's concocted. "And maybe pretty soon there'll be little Cartmans running around..."

"Ew, no."

"Sorry, I forgot you're scared of commitment."

"And kids. Uch, disgusting." Cartman grimaces before asking "So what's new in the life of Doctor Broflovski? Killed anyone yet?"

Kyle rolls his eyes, nobody had died in his care yet, even though the possibility that one of his patients could die was what fuelled most of his nightmares "No, smartass. But I am on call tonight and my shift doesn't end for another hour so I may accidentally murder somebody in my sleep deprived state."

"Please don't... Well, I gotta go. People to meet, deals to be made, produce to shift."

"How glamorous."

"Hey, at least it's better than treating a drug addict hobo who may or may not projectile vomit all over you!"

Kyle groans and shudders in disgust before whining "Dude, why did you have to bring that up now? I've had forty showers and I still can't get that poor guy's stink off of me"

"Don't give up, Jew."

"I'll try not to. Bye, fatass."

"Bye, Kahl."


New Year's Eve sucked. Well, the parties sucked. Cartman and Kyle both agreed on that. Both of them felt so much happier watching the ball drop on the TV in their apartments, with Chinese food and Tequila and a small, affectionate kiss to top it all off at midnight. It was so much easier to get in the spirit that way, though after Thanksgiving and Christmas, they were unsure how much festive cheer they had left. By December 31st supplies were low and your effort was only rewarded with a hangover the following day. Which was always a great start to the year. Parties only made this worse. These events were so romantic and smug and if you were single or with somebody who you feigned romance for, all the while wishing you were enjoying this magical night with your "one and only" then it was all very sour. Cartman and Kyle always found themselves in either of those two camps.

Kyle had been invited to a party thrown by somebody he vaguely remembered from med school. All he could say for certain was that this guy was rich, filthy rich and always had been. Money wasn't a problem for him back in med school and judging by the penthouse apartment and the copious amount of champagne, it wasn't an issue now. Kyle was surprised he was even put on the guest list since he made very few friends in med school. How could he find time for a social life when he had so much studying to do and a worrying lack of money? Whatever friends he had made had all moved on to hospitals in different states, hell, even different countries (mostly in the third world). But Kyle was still somewhat flattered by the invite and he thought it would be quite dickish of him not to show up. But he had to invite Cartman. He couldn't go to the party alone, standing by the buffet table looking like some dorky, pathetic loser. He was way too old to be this self-conscious, this wasn't high school, God damn it.

Naturally Cartman complained about this break in tradition. One of his favourite traditions of the holiday season was New Year's Eve, getting drunk with Kyle and knowing that they were going to end up kissing. But then he figured that going to a stupid, pretentious party with Kyle wasn't going to be so different to how they usually celebrated the new year. It was just a change of venue.

It was 11:45 on a cold December 31st and Cartman and Kyle both thought it was a stupid idea to have a rooftop party in the middle of winter. The girls looked ridiculous, wearing parkas that failed to cover their bare legs.

"God, are all doctors this lame? This party sucks fucking ass, dude" Cartman complained, stealing an appetizer from the passing waiter's tray.

"You're not in Rio anymore." Kyle pointed out, he didn't want to be here anymore than Cartman did, but he wasn't bitching about it.

"Don't you think I know that? The parties in Rio were much cooler."

"Did you hook up with anyone?" Kyle asks, if he was sober he would never ask such a question because the answer would be entirely unpleasant.

Cartman had. His anxiety about dying alone without ever getting the chance to be with Kyle increased when he was drunk and his only solution to this problem was to drink more and seek the company of others. Mostly drunken, slutty girls with daddy issues or hard up, gay guys who were desperate to get laid. Having sex to relieve stress or despair isn't such a crazy notion, after all, it can certainly take your mind off whatever's bothering you and make you feel ten times better (albeit for an unfairly short period of time) but Cartman kind of felt it was more than that, in his case anyway. Sex made him feel wanted and validated and a little less alone. It was all so therapeutic and clinical. He often wondered if this view of sex was something he had subconsciously picked up from his mother. But that was really an issue he should discuss with a shrink, which he thought was, quite frankly a waste of his time.

"Kahl, I don't fuck and tell. I have class. Unlike you." Cartman replies, laughing smugly when Kyle elbows him in frustration. "So do you have any New Year's Resolutions, Jew?"

"To meet somebody." Kyle shrugs. If only it were that simple. "You know, somebody I can have a real relationship with. Every relationship I've had since college has always felt so forced, you know? Like I had a stupid agenda or something-"

"Every relationship has an agenda though, right? Otherwise, what would be the point? I don't think you've thought this through, Kahl"

"Don't be a smartass" Kyle snaps before continuing with his lovesick rant. "Remember that guy Todd? Well, I only dated him because I hadn't had sex in like, five months and I needed somebody to fuck or to fuck me and just get rid of all my stress. And nothing ever changes, I've had the same mindset with all of my boyfriends. I never get angry or upset when they leave, I never agonize or obsess over them, I never tell them that I love them. Because I don't and I'm just trying to be honest. I don't want to be with somebody for the wrong reasons, I don't want to be with somebody for convenience or because they give good head, I'm done with all that stupid, depressing, childish bullcrap! I want be with somebody who I love and who loves me. I want a relationship where everything all falls into place and there's a spark and chemistry but also a future, you know? I want somebody who I can fight with and tell everything to but know deep down that the good will always outweigh the bad. I know it's a pretty tall order but there must be somebody out there who can give me all that, right?" Kyle knew then that he just described everything he wanted Cartman to be. What he knew and prayed Cartman would be able to give him. The cruel injustice of it all made Kyle want to punch somebody, maybe the pretentious douchebag who invited them here in the first place.

"Sure there is, Kahl." Cartman replies softly, almost under his breath, forgetting to add 'and he's closer than you think'. If Kyle gave Cartman the chance then he'd try his hardest to be all those things for him. Because he wasn't a big believer in romance, but he believed in Kyle. Something had ignited in Cartman all those years ago, whispering that he would follow Kyle for the rest of his life and sign himself away to him in a heartbeat.

Kyle gives Cartman a grateful, vulnerable smile. The kind of smile that spiralled into Cartman's heart like a sugar-coated arrow.

"So do you have any New Year's Resolutions? Any wishes? You know, besides not getting arrested?" Kyle smiles, still totally transfixed on Cartman's venomous golden eyes.

Kyle. Cartman wanted Kyle. On every birthday candle, every wishbone, every shooting star and every New Year he wished for Kyle. Obviously, Cartman didn't tell Kyle that. Instead, he shrugged and replied "I don't believe in that shit."

"Of course you don't" Kyle smirks, rolling his eyes.

The two of them were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't hear the excited chant of the countdown to midnight.

They kissed as the sobering notes of Auld Lang Syne pervaded the air. A sweet, chaste kiss that was sure to soothe their craving for each other. At least for another year.

"Happy New Year" Kyle murmurs giddily, his lidded eyes trained on Cartman's mouth.

"Happy New Year" Cartman replies, gently tucking a red curl behind Kyle's ear.


Spring is probably the most deceptive season of the year. The humid showers, crisp, blue skies and flowers slowly coming into bloom creates the impression of new beginnings. Which for Kyle meant a new boyfriend. Every year, from March to May, Kyle became a person he never thought he would be. An optimistic, hopeless, often crazy romantic. But it was all so false and superficial and he knew it.

Stan was the perfect example of a "hopeless romantic" a naïve, gentle soul who fell in love too easily, he idolised the person who was currently crushing his heart between their fingers, he believed in soulmates and becoming a total pushover in order to get what, or who you want. This wasn't Kyle. Kyle had only ever been in love twice. He fell in love with Stan when he was fourteen, the two of them were spending more time together than usual at that point in their lives and Kyle could feel himself inwardly swooning at every word Stan said. Even if he was talking about the most pedestrian things.

He fell in love with Cartman when he was... He couldn't remember. This scared him slightly. He realised he was in love with Cartman not long after they slept together, but that was just a realisation, a long overdue epiphany. In his heart he knew his feelings for Cartman traced back too far. It was all so complicated and mangled when they were too young to understand what love was really about. Kyle didn't realise it as an oblivious, somewhat innocent nine-year old how much passion he felt towards that self-centred, intolerant, manipulative sociopath known as Eric Theodore Cartman. As they got older they were abusing each other like narcotics and revelling in a glorious high, flirting with the boundaries of friends to enemies to something more... But now it was this. Acceptance of something greater than themselves that was so frustratingly hard to get a hold of. Blissful as it may have seemed sometimes, Kyle knew deep down that it was anything but and that their story would either end with a blunt kiss that articulated all their pent-up angst followed by palpitation-inducing, toe-curlingly amazing sex or with a tragic OD or other morose suicide. Kyle knew he was getting older and more of a jaded, coffee fuelled twenty-something when he realised the latter was becoming more of a possibility and the former was a teenage, Hollywood fantasy. But, you know, Kyle hadn't thought about it too much.

Anyway, this influx of springtime boyfriends were nothing but flings. Even though Kyle hated being alone, he'd never force a relationship to work if he wasn't really that interested. But he knew that excuse was bullshit, all he was doing was waiting out for Cartman to make some huge, romantic gesture. Preferably in the rain. Still, these flings had their perks. Kyle never allowed things to progress and become too serious, all he needed was the dates and the talking and the sex to distract him while Cartman was touring the world. He questioned the healthiness of his routine and whether he was using these poor souls. When he thought like that, it left a pretty nasty taste in his mouth. He'd call Cartman for consolation and for him to remind Kyle that his life wasn't just a big screw up.

Kyle prayed that Jason would be different. He met Jason in Starbucks, of all places, in between shifts at the hospital. He'd noticed some tall, brunette guy staring at him while waiting in line for his coffee and though Kyle usually found that blatant show of interest very unattractive, there was something about Jason that made him want to stare right back. Kyle knew why he liked him. He was just his type. Tall with broad shoulders, brown hair and an overpowering attitude that you could instantly tell was arrogant and brash. Basically, Kyle was attracted to any man who slightly resembled Cartman. The only thing missing from Jason was the Golden brown eyes, an icy, heavenly blue had taken their place. The longer Jason stared, the more self-conscious Kyle became, he probably looked like shit, with his hair all messy and twelve-hour shift bags under his eyes.

Once Kyle ordered his Pumpkin Spice Latte, he wanted to forget all about blue-eyed guy (as cute as he was) and drink his coffee in peace. That was until a chair pulled up next to him and blue-eyed guy made his move: "Hi, it's me. The guy from the line who was staring at you like a perv. I came over to apologise... It's just that you don't see many gorgeous redheads in Starbucks these days. And I don't know if I'm barking up the wrong tree, but I figured I should take a shot. My name's Jason."

Kyle smiled and rolled his eyes, extending his hand for Jason to shake. He had a very firm handshake. "Kyle. Oh, and by the way, you're not barking up the wrong tree, but you are a tad forward. I'm sure you've repelled many supposedly gorgeous redheads by sneaking up on them while they're trying to enjoy their coffee."

The two ended up talking for an hour and Jason gave Kyle his phone number.

After two weeks, three dates and getting to third base on Jason's couch, Kyle decided it was time to let Cartman know about his new squeeze. Cartman had been in Milan for a few weeks and Kyle was anxious about mentioning Jason during their daily phonecalls. There was always a pang of guilt when either of them told the other about somebody they were dating. Kyle knew deep down that Cartman didn't like hearing about Jason, the resentment and bitterness in Cartman's voice was so God damn obvious that it made Kyle's skin crawl.

After they said goodbye, both of them feeling like shit, Cartman was more determined than ever to meet somebody and bring them back home to rub it in Kyle's face. That was the only reason he hooked up with Serafina in the first place and why he insisted she stay with him in his apartment in Denver. He couldn't give a fuck what happened to her once they had broken up, but he needed a pawn right now and unluckily for her, she was one.

It was a spiteful, almost masochistic tradition for Cartman and his girlfriend (or boyfriend) to go on a double date with Kyle and his boyfriend. It was childish and petty and they both knew that, but after a while all of that ridiculousness stopped, the two of them silently apologised to each other using a series of humble and forgiving looks and they had a good time. Usually at the cost of alienating their dates.

Jealousy is a terrible evil. An evil that consumes greedily and without remorse. Envy is bad enough when there's nothing to be jealous over and it's all just a paranoid delusion, but it's even worse when the evidence is right there in front of you. A lot of the time, Cartman and Kyle's boyfriends or girlfriends would ask "So what's the deal with you two?" surely there had to be some history there, platonic friendships never have that much chemistry... If they were smart they would realise that Cartman and Kyle were harbouring feelings for each other. If they were dumb, however, then they would immediately think that Cartman and Kyle were fucking each other.

The topic of Cartman and Kyle's daily phone conversation today was last night's double date. Which could have gone better, but it could have gone worse too.

"Last night was fun. I felt like I hadn't seen you in forever" Just saying those words makes Kyle think of the brooch. How when he misses Cartman, he rummages through his memory box to find that beautiful piece of jewellery and studies it, like he's holding a trembling cocoon always on the brink of revealing a glorious, extravagant butterfly.

"Yeah, me too. I don't really get homesick an ymore, maybe it's because I'm never really at my apartment enough for it to feel like home, but... I always miss you. You fucking daywalker." Cartman replies, sometimes it feels like Kyle is so close. Too close. Like he's lying right next to him. But he knows he's not. That single harsh reality check is enough to break whatever he has left of a heart. "So, anyway, do you like Serafina? She's pretty great, right?"

Kyle didn't like Serafina. Callous envy aside, the girl was just so garish and loud. Kyle would've liked her and found her quite fun if she wasn't so God damn needy. She strained to make every sentence sound provocative, she purred like an obnoxious Harley when she laughed, her dress struggled to contain her ample bosom and Kyle didn't think this was an accident. But who was she trying to impress? Jason wasn't interested, neither was Kyle and Cartman was already sleeping with her. He was sold. Kyle hated the way she acted around her new American boyfriend. Always draping her lithe, olive arms around Cartman's shoulders, always kissing his face and exaggerating his name in annoying moans and in a giggling, childish way that only she thought was sexy.

"Totally dude! She seems really fun and sweet-"

"Kahl, I know you hate her." Cartman interrupts exasperatedly, though he does find it funny how quickly he can tear down Kyle's lies.

"I'm sorry, Cartman" Kyle groans, running a frustrated hand through his hair as he starts to feel like a pathetic jackass. "I tried, honestly! I don't know what it is... But I am really sorry."

"Don't start whining like that, Jewboy. You know I can't stand it." Cartman laughs before saying "But Mason seems... Cool."

"Jason, Cartman. Jason." Kyle snaps.

"Whatever." Cartman couldn't give a fuck what that smug cocksucker's name was. He hated him, that was all that matters. Jason or Mason or whoever the hell he was could never appreciate Kyle as much as Cartman did. Even though they weren't technically together, Cartman never took Kyle for granted.

"You don't like him, do you?" Kyle asks, it was typical Cartman behaviour.

"It's not that I don't like him" Cartman began, knowing full well that Kyle could see through this bullshit. "I just think you could do so much better, that's all."

"You say that about all my boyfriends..." Kyle laughs.

"I only say it because you're too perfect, Jewboy." Cartman replies and no sentence has ever felt so painfully true.


Kyle never cried over break ups. Even if they came as total surprises. Jason was different. Three months was too long to be considered a "fling" and Kyle was unsure whether he wanted to go the distance with him. He didn't want to be tied up to someone else when the only person he really wanted to be tied up to was Cartman.

Whilst doing mundane, everyday hospital tasks that he had done a million times, Kyle would contemplate breaking up with Jason. He thought about what he should say, how he was going to handle it, where and when he was going to do it. But it turned out that those thoughts were wasted since Jason was the one who sat him down with the clichéd "we need to talk".

So now Kyle was crying on his sofa and Cartman was awkwardly comforting him (this kind of thing really wasn't Cartman's strong suit).

"Why am I crying? I'm so fucking stupid" Kyle moaned into Cartman's shoulder, drying his tears on his shirt. Kyle knew why he was crying. It wasn't because he was devastated that Jason had left or that he was different to the other guys he had been with over the years. It was because Jason said to Kyle what every other boyfriend had been too scared to say to him.

"No you're not, Kahl" Cartman replies gently. That little, fat, sadistic kid inside him loved watching Kyle cry, it was weird and wrong but Cartman couldn't get rid of him. Still, a more compassionate, human side of him hated seeing Kyle so broken over somebody who wasn't worth Kyle's tears. In Cartman's opinion, anyway.

"It's all my fault." Kyle murmurs sadly.

"How?"

"Because he told me!" Kyle exclaimed, pulling away and dabbing his gross, wet eyes with his wrists. "He said it's like I'm switched off all the time! He said I didn't care about him or pay any attention to him... He said he felt like a fucking consolation prize and that I was never going to prioritize him above my internship or the hospital or..."

Kyle stops then. Because the end of that sentence is what fucking broke him and made him feel like complete shit.

"What?" Cartman whispers.

Kyle breathes shakily and his damp eyes fall limp into the intoxicating inferno of Cartman's irises. God, they're beautiful. The most beautiful eyes Kyle had ever seen. Cartman was the most beautiful person Kyle had ever met, so captivating and wonderful and so imperfect. But Kyle fucking adored that. He always had. That stubborn, angry nine-year old he once was would have never admitted it but he loved Cartman, in spite of himself. Kyle smiled defeatedly "You"

"Oh" Cartman didn't know what else he could say. Which was not like him at all, he pretty much had a comeback for everything.

"But why does it have to be that way, Cartman?" Kyle asks sadly, it was so unfair and he continued to rant when he rested his head on Cartman's chest. "I like having you around, even if we sometimes feel like killing each other. It's like you're my best friend but more than that, you know? It's like we're-"

"A married couple?" Cartman jokes.

"Yeah, that's it" Kyle snickers before he turns his head and his eyes struggle to see Cartman's face. "We'll always have each other, right?"

"Yep. For better or worse."

"We're stuck with each other for eternity."

"I can live with that" Cartman shrugs.

"Me too" Kyle replies happily as the neediest, most vulnerable thought he had ever had rushed through his mind. That he didn't want Cartman to go home or half way around the world, for that matter. He wanted to stay here with him forever, where everything was warm and safe, where they were all that ever mattered. Where Cartman was all there's ever been.

Eternity. The thought of being with Kyle for eternity seemed like the only kind of heaven Cartman could ask for. Even if all he was doing was watching Kyle repeat the same mistakes, he could meet these charming, striking guys and lose himself to them, but Cartman didn't mind. Because he'd always be there, picking Kyle up, telling him that everything was going to be okay. They could call each other everyday and say "I love you" so much that the words started to ache, they could go wherever they wanted in this chaotic, maddeningly beautiful world but Cartman knew that whatever he saw, no matter how inspiring and magnificent, these tourist fantasies, living dreams would never be as beautiful as Kyle. The simple, grand prize at the end of a pursuit. Eternity and all the consuming years before this moment didn't seem so scary or difficult any more. Sure, it would be great to have Kyle but it had been pretty great just being with him all these years. But maybe if Cartman just said that simple sentence, the one that had begged to roll off his tongue for ten years, then something incredible could happen.

"I love you" Cartman could barely hear himself saying it. He never imagined saying those three words in such a terrified way.

"What?" Kyle giggles, Cartman's confession slipping past him carelessly.

It all seemed so unimportant and fleeting until Kyle felt Cartman grab his wrists and pull him close. Kyle had never felt so small and weak, any clever, witty words he could say shrivelled up shyly in his throat. He heard what Cartman said, of course he did. He saw the incensed passion in Cartman's eyes and he felt the severity and vulnerability of his words rip apart the shy, hesitant mask that had previously hidden them.

"I love you, Kahl. I mean it and you feel the same way, I know you do" Cartman had never been so terrified of himself, after every evil, despicable act he had committed in his life, this confession frightened him the most. It felt so empowering to say and yet he had been silent for ten years. But he couldn't think of what if's and how different his life and Kyle's life would have been if he had just grown a pair and said this sooner. That was too difficult. All he knew for sure is that he could sit here, pouring his heart out to Kyle all night if he let him, that he loved Kyle's pulse rattling under his fingertips and that being honest with somebody felt just as good as lying to their faces.

"Cartman, I-" Kyle whimpers.

"What?"

"Of course I love you too" Kyle replies, the sting of his tears felt so much better than the other ones he had cried that night.

Everything seemed funny after that. The intensity of it all disintegrated and all that was left was the simple knowledge that they loved each other. Something they had known all along but finally admitted. Cartman loosened his grip on Kyle's wrists but still leaned in and kissed him tenderly, the kind of kiss that roused the smallest, most electric thrum of pleasure to permeate Kyle.

Kyle smiled into the kiss, closing his eyes as he clung to Cartman's sweet blossom lips before he could pull away. Kyle's arms slid effortlessly out of Cartman's hold and once they were free his hands trembled, unsure and he wished his fingers were intertwined with Cartman's. At least then he wouldn't feel like a clueless idiot. Every paramour whose names Kyle couldn't remember at this exquisite moment in time and every pair of lips Kyle had encountered in his life all vanished and he felt like a blank canvas with no experience or idea what to do. But he let Cartman kiss him over and over, shivering when he felt his arms wrap around his waist and he mewled weakly into Cartman's mouth. Kyle was weakening and he didn't know why, though it probably had something to do with the anchor of incandescent heat that had settled itself under his lungs and whose light poured downwards. Cartman briefly broke away and smiled at Kyle's confused, bewildered expression, his toxic, Emerald eyes were smouldering and his mouth was damp.

Before Cartman had a chance to speak, Kyle cupped the side of Cartman's face with his hand and brought their lips together once again, kissing at a deep, steady rythym eluding them from everything else, even their hands that were greedily and unabashedly exploring familiar territory. Kyle shifted so he was sitting in Cartman's lap, his thighs either side of Cartman's hips and for once Kyle actually felt taller than him. Cartman looked up at him with bright, obnoxious eyes and felt a shiver go down his spine at Kyle's knowing smirk. Kyle moaned as Cartman's tongue swept over his Adam's Apple, leaving chaste kisses on the hot skin until their lips roughly collided. A part of them felt sixteen again, that forgotten nervous, overwhelmed I-Don't-Know-What-The-Fuck-I'm-Doing side of them seemed to be chattering anxiously in the back of their heads. They were pretty drunk that night, but it was all coming back to them. Could they ever forget? But they didn't feel like kids to each other any more. Sex was nothing too strange to them now, but back then it seemed like a huge deal. Still, they couldn't escape this frantic chemistry, this dependence and crippling need for each other that haunted them and had laid dormant all these years, until they were in such a tense proximity. And as they passively aggressively hurt each other with the friction of their touches and the sharpness of their teeth, teased each other with their tongues and elicited muffled, pleading moans and whimpers from each other it all seemed so animalistic, they hadn't spoken a word since their lips touched but they knew where this all eventually going to lead to. They would have sex and it would be great but they didn't know what would happen the next day. Kyle thought of the pact and any carnal thoughts were excluded. Sort of.

"No" Kyle whispers, his mind heated and sluggish after those bullet-speed thoughts of ecstasy collapsed out of pure exhaustion. He kisses Cartman quickly, like it's a formality because his mouth was right there and he tasted so good and his lips were so soft... "We can't do this"

"Why not?" Cartman asks, his voice is husky and Kyle's thoughts liquify as it occurs to him how sexy Cartman's voice sounds like that.

"Because we promised each other we'd never have sex again!" Kyle snaps, becoming more uptight.

"We were sixteen when we made that pact!" Cartman laughs out of frustration and disbelief "But in case you haven't noticed, we're grown-ups now and we can do whatever the hell we like!"

"But I, I don't know what I want!" Kyle whines childishly, partly lying. But there was some truth to that. This all happened so fast, Cartman was comforting him one minute and then kissing him the next and it was messing with Kyle's head, although he wasn't making matters any better by kissing Cartman back.

Cartman sighs heavily before pulling Kyle forward, Kyle grips his couch for purchase so he doesn't fall. "Okay" Cartman begins soothingly "Just look at me, take a deep breath and think about what you want"

Kyle shakes his head and mutters reluctantly "Cartman-"

"If you don't want to have sex with me then... Fine, I'll go home and call you tomorrow but just do this one thing for me so I know that you're sure" Cartman knew that he was practically begging Kyle but, fuck it, he wasn't going to let Kyle make any stupid, rash decisions and then both of them would end up feeling like douches.

So Kyle did what Cartman told him to and just looked and contemplated, while Cartman waited hesitantly and rather impatiently for Kyle to make his decision. There wasn't going to be any romantic epiphanies tomorrow, there would be no roses or a swooning score of music as they embraced and decided that they would live happily ever after together. Kyle would wake up for work, him and Cartman would laugh at what they did, all that tension and chemistry knotting together and eliciting the temptation to do it again, they'd go their separate ways and call each other later and what happened tonight would be a passing topic of conversation. Kyle didn't know if he was fine with things going back to the way they were. He struggled when he was sixteen to get over what happened between them, but he was a kid back then, a kid who had a boyfriend and who never dealt with guilt well. But he was twenty-six now and he didn't have a boyfriend, in fact one had just left him. But that neurotic, conflicted kid he had always been was still here and his presence was even stronger at times like this. He was unsure if he could sleep with Cartman now and not feel blinding jealousy and anger when Cartman hooked up with someone new. Or fucked off to Paris for two weeks or wherever his shady line of work took him.

The memory, that bittersweet, wonderful memory of what it felt like to have Cartman so close to him was enough to make Kyle go through with this, but it also made him weary because he couldn't let Cartman go again, he wanted him all to himself. Every day. Not just one night. Things were always so slow and proud between them, they kept their feelings from each other so distant sometimes that they wondered how they would ever end up together. But an optimistic, foolish scrap of them clung to the notion that they would be, someday. Would one fantastic night really speed up the inevitability of the two dating, becoming a "committed" couple, living together and being as married as two guys could be in this state? Kyle didn't really know. But it was a step, right? A baby step, really. A footnote on a long, frustrating love story that would surely all be worth it in the end. However hard he tried to rationalise this and put it into some kind of perspective, he couldn't escape how badly he wanted Cartman, how much he needed him. He'd been fucking drowning for years, admiring him from a distance, being left alone and only getting an innocent drop of intimacy from him on New Year's Eve, because it wasn't just sex, it was everything else, it was all that repressed, true love behind it. Kyle needed to be reassured of that, he needed to be reminded that Cartman did love him. And until him and Cartman were really a couple, this was the closest thing to them actually being in a relationship. Maybe that was sad and pathetic and needy but Kyle felt like that most of the time anyway.

Kyle answered Cartman with a passionate kiss, finding Cartman's surprise and nervous happiness very endearing. Kyle didn't know why Cartman was so shocked at this decision. Didn't he realise what a tight hold he had over Kyle? Of course he didn't, because Kyle would never let Cartman know that he had the upperhand, that he had won. But as long as Cartman made him feel this good, then he didn't give a fuck who won or not.

As if Kyle wasn't turned on enough, the small, helpless noise Cartman made as their kiss paused and the ever so playful bite at Kyle's lip really got his motor running.

"Jesus, Kahl, it would've fucking killed me if you didn't want this to happen" Cartman breathed out, his voice rough and making Kyle's own vocal chords tremble out a moan. Ten years. How had he been able to hold out for ten years?

Kyle smiled and slid his tongue into Cartman's pliable mouth. "Then you better make this worth my while, fatass." he murmured, smiling wickedly as the kiss broke.

"You know God damn well that I will, Jewboy." Cartman replies and Kyle didn't doubt him at all.


No matter how long Kyle had worked at the hospital for, he could never get used to the 6:00 AM start. He felt like a pariah when he walked in to the ICU for rounds, with his coffee slowly growing cold, his eyes barely open and his only means of communicating were through mumbles and sloppy, half-formed sentences when every other intern was infuriatingly enthusiastic and sprightly, eager to impress their residents. The only comfort Kyle could take from watching these energetic pricks was that they were usually the ones who would be crying in a medical supply closet by lunch. Kyle never did that. Though that's because hysterical crying wasn't really his thing, he would rather torture himself with thoughts of incompetence and that he was just a murderer in scrubs ready to kill off a patient who had been diagnosed with a disease that he had never heard of.

Still, not even his alarm clock or the meager four hours sleep he had last night could stop him from waking up with a satisfied, content smile on his face. He was sure this post-coital high would wear off in couple of hours, but he was going to enjoy this for as long as he could.

Kyle wondered if he should wake Cartman up, even if he did look so peaceful and not at all evil when he slept. He kind of wanted to talk to him before he went to work but then he remembered that Cartman wasn't a morning person and decided against it.

So Kyle went about his business, trying to forget that Cartman was sleeping in his bed. But it was hard when all Kyle could think about was last night, smiling stupidly like a hormonal, infatuated teenager as he was making himself a cup of coffee.

"That was so much better than Mason, right?" Cartman asked, though Kyle's laboured breathing, firecracker eyes and the giddy, gratified smile on his face answered his question.

Kyle swallows and turns his head, his Adam's apple bobbing in his slender neck and Cartman had that sudden urge to bite it.

"Jason" Kyle corrected breathlessly. He was too strung out to engage in any bickering.

"I don't give a fuck what his name is" Cartman replied.

Kyle thought for a while before smiling and replying listlessly "Me neither"

"So much for our pact..." Kyle said as he rested his head on Cartman's chest.

"It was stupid, anyway."

"Not at the time it wasn't." Kyle pointed out sternly.

Kyle may have felt that way, but Cartman certainly didn't. "Well, at least you can forget about that Mason douchebag now..."

"This wasn't about him." Kyle explains as his eyes begin to close. "It was about you. Because I never thought I'd have another chance with you."

"That's crazy, Kahl. You'll always have a chance with me." Cartman murmured into Kyle's gorgeous red curls.

"Really?" Kyle smiles sleepily.

"I'm not going anywhere Jewboy, even if I'm a thousand miles away."

Before Kyle left for work he went into his room and attempted communicating with Cartman. Which at 7:15 in the morning wasn't easy.

Kyle smiled softly as he ran a hand through Cartman's chestnut hair and spoke gently "Cartman? I'm going to work now, okay? Stay here as long as you want... I'll call you later, alright?"

Cartman groaned and nodded in his half asleep state before Kyle kissed his cheek and left.

31

Cartman's memories of his thirtieth birthday were scattered, to say the least. Although only a year had gone by, it seemed like a forgotten, moving dream that had visited him a long time ago. He didn't really need or want to remember it.

His mom called him. He remembered that. He had come home from Madrid two days before, he was exhausted and his mom decided to call him at 8:00 AM. Thinking about that time of day was disgusting. He had forgotten it was his birthday until he received that damn phonecall. Then he remembered he had made plans with Kyle that night, which was a silver lining he supposed. His mom's chipper attitude could not be dealt with until he had gotten at least ten hours of sleep and had some coffee to wake him up even more. Her saccharine "Happy birthday poopsikins!" was met with a grumble down the phone and an annoyed "Why the hell are you calling me, woman? Don't you realise that normal human beings are still sleeping at this hour?". Cartman expected his rudeness to be glossed over with a thinly amused veneer, it had always been that way. He was sort of thankful when he was a kid that his mother couldn't abandon him or stop loving him even if she wanted to, after all, he had been told many times that he was a child "only a mother could love". But still, her ignorance to his behaviour (in short, being a demonic little bastard) did irritate him. Before the conversation ended, Liane asked with a strain of desperate hope and dreaded disappointment to her voice "Eric, I know you're very busy sweetie but can't you check in once in a while? Can you at least come over for Thanksgiving?" and Cartman did feel some pity for his mom, some familial, default love in the most primal part of his brain for the woman who bore him. "Fine, mom. I'll come by for Thanksgiving" Cartman had sighed and he could practically hear the grateful tears welling up in Liane's eyes. He put the phone down before she could embarrass herself.

Then there was the night that followed. When he was drunk and Kyle was drunk and they somehow ended up smoking Havanas in Cartman's apartment and talking about how old they are and how crazy it is that you can feel small and insignificant in this vast, chaotic world even though you're a grown up and surely grown ups shouldn't feel that way, right? Every sentence was punctuated with a giggling, stupid kiss and Cartman thinks that Kyle's lips laced with cigar smoke is the best thing he's ever tasted. Both of them fell asleep on the couch at around 3AM and when they woke up they were spooning. But Cartman thought that waking up and having your vision flood with scarlet and your nose fill with the muted, coconut scent of Kyle's curls wasn't such a bad thing. You could wake up to a lot worse.

He just lay there for a while, keeping track of Kyle's breathing and tangling his fingers in Kyle's hair and his mind wandered lethargically to that night four years ago, when him and Kyle broke the pact. How after ten years they could easily get caught up in each other. Cartman thought that it could become a tradition or something... Their own personal equinox that happened every decade. Huh, he only had to wait six more years for his fix. It seemed funny for a while, but then it all just seemed so depressing and Cartman couldn't deal with that now. He was thirty, for God's sake!

Kyle held a particular disdain for his birthday. He didn't know where this hatred sprung from, all he knew was that it was there, unmoving and merciless. To him a birthday was a cunning, malevolent reminder that another year was wasted. Any feeble attempts to make this day "special" and "fun" were just facades. He co-operated with his friends and family who were more excited than he was, but sometimes he felt like laughing sardonically "I don't give a rat's ass so why don't all of you just shut the fuck up?"

He was unhappy, always unhappy, living a half life because he should have hated, despised, fucking loathed the person who was making him this damn depressed but he couldn't. As another year slipped by, Cartman was too. Every month a new place to be, a pretty, exotic girl or equally pretty boy on his arm. And Kyle loathed every single thing Cartman did to convince himself that he didn't want to be with Kyle, that commitment was just too scary for him. Kyle thought that maybe Cartman was too selfish or deluded or just too damn cruel to see that his thoughtless actions were making Kyle's shell of a half life even harder than it was. But Kyle knew that he wasn't helping himself or doing himself any favours with these temporary, easily disposable boyfriends who took up space in his apartment for a couple of weeks before moving on to the next guy. Tall, broad shoulders, brown hair, brown eyes. Preferably. Kyle could settle for second best if he was feeling lonely. There was some sadistic appeal to introducing Cartman to his new boyfriends and Kyle wondered how in these instances things had become so poisonous between them.

But when they were on their own, away from boyfriends or girlfriends or oceans, everything felt so mind-numbingly perfect. Kyle consoled himself with that old, comforting thought, that Cartman was all there's ever been.

But maybe that wasn't enough anymore. For the both of them.

They had backed themselves into a corner so far that they could either live with each other and be their "one and only's" or not live with each other at all. Out of each other's lives. It may have sounded extreme, but extreme was all they really had now.

Still, the both of them knew that it sucked. Growing up fucking sucked.

So, they let these thoughts and feeling stir for a year. Consume them at night. The sun would drink it all up by the morning and the moon would spit it back. They tried their hardest to keep these insecurities and gaping, intimidating fears away from each other. But twenty-six years with a person can teach you a lot. Cartman saw the weary, anxious flaws in Kyle's smile. And Kyle could see the mounting frustration and irrational fear clouding Cartman's eyes. Something was wrong. Something they both felt.

Kyle would cave first. That was a given. And Cartman knew Kyle well enough to know that Kyle wouldn't just say it delicately, he'd say everything and not bother to smooth over the most callous words. Cartman liked that about Kyle, among other things. Besides, conflict and animosity was at the root of it all, how this tapestry began.

"Don't you realise how lonely I am when you're gone?! You're, like, my only friend, Cartman! My only true friend at least. Sure, I have Stan and Kenny but they've got their lives and I've got mine and maybe I have my friends at the hospital but they're just people I see everyday and don't think about or go out of my way to feign concern for. All I have is you and I used to be fine with that except I don't think I ever was... Don't you feel the slightest bit of remorse that you're leaving me here to deal with this mess myself?! Because that's what you and I are, Cartman! A fucking mess! We're not separate from each other anymore, we've become a fucking time bomb, pretending so hard to be something we're not! There's something so perfect under all this, can't you see? So why can't we have that?"

As Kyle stood in the middle of Cartman's living room, waiting impatiently for an answer with bated breath, misty eyes and an anger he hadn't felt for Cartman since they were nine years old, he couldn't remember what prompted this violent confession. Oh, that's right, he had gone over to Cartman's and after an hour or so Cartman told him that he was leaving for some stupid fucking place that Kyle didn't want to remember in a week, Kyle got up to storm out, Cartman grabbed him and asked him what was wrong and then... This.

Cartman's eyes soften timidly then and Kyle notices the colours pulsing, breathing in his irises. There's something about the way Cartman looks when he's defeated, Kyle realises. No anger or anything like that, it's just bewilderment and fear and humiliation. If Kyle wasn't so mad he would've found it breathtaking.

"It's not my fault that your life is so shitty and you're so God damn pathetic" Cartman mumbles through gritted teeth, his gaze falling to the floor.

Kyle laughs shortly in indignation, rolling his eyes, rage pulsating out of him as he mutters. "This is just so typical of you"

"Really?" Cartman snaps.

"Yes! It took you ten years to tell me that you loved me and every time you feel like we're getting too close you just fuck off and leave! So you can feel relieved knowing that you've left me here and you're running as far away as possible from the fact that somebody actually loves you, Cartman! I love you so fucking much that the more I think about it the more I hate myself! But there's still that lonely, angry kid inside of you who wants to say fuck you to everyone else and abandon them at every opportunity! There's a part of you that wants to see me get worked up when you're gone! You love hurting me, Cartman! You always have! And I guess I'm a fucking masochist for holding out for so long, but I'm done with this. I'm not done with you because, trust me, I could never be done with you, but I'm done with this okay?!"

They're so close and everything seems so warm and loud. Kyle wants to push Cartman away from him because he hates him so much and he's disgusted with Cartman and himself but he couldn't break out of this vicious proximity. He could punch Cartman and reach up to kiss his lips if he wanted to.

"See if I fucking care, Jewboy! Because I'm not the only one who's a selfish fucking asshole! Go ahead and be the martyr of this whole damn thing and throw your little pity party but know that you've hurt me a thousand times over! More than anybody ever has!"

"What?" Kyle seethes, trembling and all that rage starts to renew itself.

Cartman shakes his head, running a quivering, enraged hand through his hair as he turns away from Kyle, walking away from him because he can't stand to keep looking into those bitter Emerald eyes.

But Kyle follows, Cartman knew he would. So he gives in, turning to face Kyle again and gripping him by his shoulders, getting a kick out of seeing Kyle look so surprised and yet so defiant. God, he's amazing.

"Don't you get that I'm practically addicted to you?!" He could shake Kyle and let his confession really sink in, because he means every word and Kyle better believe it. But there's something about the predatory gilded streak in Cartman's eyes, the seriousness of it all, the cruel, brutal honesty, that terrifies Kyle. "And don't you fucking say that I forget about you when I go away because not a single second goes by when I don't think about you! You've had me under your manipulative thumb for as long as I can remember and I bet you don't realise it! You won't do the merciful thing and let me go, put me out of my misery, you won't let me give you up because you seem to get more and more incredible as the years go by! It isn't fucking fair!"

Kyle grits his teeth, his eyes darkening dangerously as he shoves Cartman away from him "Don't you talk to me about fair, you son of a bitch! Fair isn't abandoning me for an entire summer when we were eighteen! I needed you, Cartman!"

"Fair isn't fucking every eligible guy you meet just to spite me!"

Kyle threw the first punch. The only thing Kyle registered in the meer seconds after impact was the blood. So much blood, an ugly, rich crimson which stained his aching knuckles and fingers. His hollow eyes were like green, chillingly beautiful slabs that were hooked on Cartman. Who just stood there, no tears in his eyes, no visible pain except for his blood-swollen nose that oozed open like a malignant rose.

But Kyle's deft fists ran on instinct and punched Cartman again, not waiting for him to fight back, not wanting to elicit any kind of pain, but out of frustration and searing anger. But Cartman just stood there and took it, though his convoluted eyes were forming a plan, Kyle knew that. But he didn't care. He just kept hitting Cartman until he felt like screaming, until he could slump, exhausted into Cartman's arms.

But Cartman pushed Kyle away from him and punched him back. The hardest Kyle had been hit in his life and all he could think of doing was straightening his numbed jaw as best he could and punching Cartman again. The blank, steely expressions on their faces being replaced with looks of ruthless anger and helpless, exasperated, blurred eyes. They hadn't fought like this since they were kids and nostalgia infected them with the heady, sickening, passionate emotions that they had felt so long ago and that had confused them so much.

The temptation to just pull at each other, and lick each other's bruised mouths open was too close. So they gripped and shoved, punched and pushed until the blood began to drip profusely and their bodies ached and they felt that heat-of-the-moment, blinding rage shrivel up.

A cyclone of another kind took it's place, they fell into each other, pawing at each other posessively. Kyle looped his arms around Cartman's neck, burying his face into his shoulder, while Cartman dug his fingers into Kyle's trembling back, breathing into Kyle's curls. The bitter shouting stopped and the apologetic sobs began.

"Cartman" Kyle says tearfully, cupping Cartman's face and letting their wet eyes meet, stinging fingers ghost Cartman's face and Kyle wants to press his lips to that forlorn smile.

"Kahl" Cartman whimpers back, holding him closer and tucking a scarlet curl behind Kyle's ear.

The light of Kyle's smile touches his damp eyes, before he bites his lip and furrows his eyebrows, seeking comfort in Cartman's embrace.

They sway slightly as they fight with the force of each other. Their lungs and hearts are soaring crescendos that provide sound to this silent apartment. The aggression hasn't simmered down yet and is evident with every attempt to hold to one and other, as they stay tangled for as long as they possibly could.

"Say something, Cartman" Kyle murmurs, almost indecipherable, into Cartman's shoulder "Can't you just talk to me about how you feel?"

Cartman shakes his head, sighing heavily before muttering, not ready to let Kyle out of his grasp "God damn it, Kahl. You know I'm not that kinda guy"

"Yeah" Kyle replies nastily, slipping himself silently out of Cartman's arms. "I know exactly what kinda guy you are" Kyle chokes on his sobs and he wishes he wasn't unravelling like this in front of Cartman. But who else could make him come undone so easily?

Kyle's giving Cartman a look that Cartman hasn't seen in a long time. The kind of intimidating, hardened look that could make you want to go off into a corner and die slowly. Jesus Christ, he wants Kyle so badly. Too bad he's terrified to make a move. Or say anything.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?!" Kyle finally shouts, the tears coming thick and fast.

Like before, Cartman doesn't move as Kyle hits him on his chest, trying to beat an answer out of him. Kyle exasperatedly and defeatedly slumps, resting the crown of his curls on Cartman's chest. Cartman would touch him, but Kyle would hit him away. He doesn't feel anything except his and Kyle's words growing cancerous.

Kyle looks up and tries his best to compose himself, but it's hard when it feels like he's unloading fifteen years of heartache on to the one person he's been keeping it from all this time. "How many times do I have to break that God damn pact for you to just say it?!"

"Jew-" Cartman warns darkly.

"No! Didn't you feel anything at all when we made love? Well? Did you?!"

"Of course I fucking did!" Cartman shouts back, scaring himself at how painful his words felt.

Kyle flinches, even after all these bruises, the assumption that Cartman didn't love Kyle at all, when Kyle knew that he did, is what made the guilt start to gnaw.

"Cartman-" Kyle begins, wincing at the hurt in Cartman's eyes.

"No, it's my turn, okay?! So shut up and fucking listen to me! Out of all the God damn people in this world, I never thought you would sink this low and say something like that... I never thought that you would think of me the same way everyone else has my entire life! Like I'm this cold, hollow abomination who doesn't care about anybody but himself! Just because it's harder for me to tell people about my feelings doesn't mean they're not there!"

Kyle doesn't say sorry. He doesn't say anything at all. He wipes the blood away from his mouth and stares at the smear of red indifferently.


Half an hour later and they're sitting on opposite ends of the couch, bruised and bloodied. The scent of stagnant copper pervades the air and the blood has dried, burgundy, on their faces and shoulders where they had breached, exhausted and remorseful into each other's arms.

"I meant every word I said" Kyle says solemnly, looking over at Cartman and noticing the patch of blood on his shirt, reminding him of how right it felt to rest his head there and have Cartman's arms around him. It felt so warm and safe even though he was hurting like Hell.

Cartman winces at Kyle's honesty before smiling sadly "I know. You've never shied away from how you feel."

"Well, I've done a pretty good job of it for the last fifteen years" Kyle deadpans.

Cartman rolls his eyes and laughs and just hearing the sound makes Kyle smile fondly, balling his fists in self loathing because he shouldn't find a sociopathic dickweed like Cartman attractive.

Kyle almost jumps when Cartman's fingers hesitantly graze his arm, staring down at this weird display of affection with glistening eyes that are trapped in thought. Maybe out of pity or the fact that Cartman was the only person who could beat him up and yet he'd still want to be close to, Kyle pulled him into his arms and Cartman rested his head on Kyle's chest.

"How old were you when you realised you loved me?" Kyle asks blankly as he runs his fingers through Cartman's hair. Only now, after they had beaten the crap out of each other did they remember that they had never asked each other that question. Before it never seemed like a question that warranted an answer, but now it seemed so essential.

Cartman closes his eyes, exhausted, and shrugs. He knew that Kyle had a right to want to ask about these things, but he couldn't answer. He just couldn't.

"How old were you when you knew that you loved me?" Cartman teases.

"I can't remember. But I hated it. Then I fell in love with that feeling almost as much as I fell in love with you." Kyle answers honestly and Cartman hates that he feels guilty, guilty for all these years. It's fucking painful.

"Why did you have sex with me when we were sixteen?"

Cartman cringes before muttering "Jesus Christ, What is this? A fucking Q&A?"

Kyle blushes and messes up Cartman's hair, making them both laugh under their breaths. "Come on dude, I'm being serious."

"Kahl, I'm not answering that stupid question. Don't try to validate something you already know and what I can't say."

"Fine."

"Why did you kiss me on that night?" Cartman smirks "You're the one who started it all, remember?"

"I just wanted to" Kyle shrugs, their first kiss still lingering on his lips after all this time. "God, I really wanted to."

Kyle takes a nervous, shuddering breath before saying "I need you to do something for me"

"What's that?" Cartman asks, moving away from Kyle and looking into his eyes "Kahl, I'd do anything for you"

Cartman hated himself for saying that but he took comfort knowing that Kyle believed he was being completely honest.

"Okay" Kyle begins, staring into Cartman's sad, compliant eyes "Try to understand why I have to go home"


Kyle had always liked the rain. He loved that crisp smell, the whispering sound which reminded him of a highly anticipated storm and he loved the sight of it. Literally watching the heavens flood, intertwining with sunlight and polishing the world of impurities.

"Kahl! Wait! Please, you can't leave!" Cartman shouts helplessly.

"I have to, Cartman!" Kyle shouts back, although his voice is wavering with tears.

The rain was heavy as he left Cartman's apartment block, ignoring Cartman's words, begging him to come back. Kyle covered his mouth with his hand and willed himself not to cry. Right now he hated the rain.

Cartman stood by the door, watching Kyle, drenched and miserable as he left. Although he had been, as Kyle had called him many years ago "a crybaby pussy" when he was a kid, Cartman loathed the thought of crying now. If he cried he would have to slit his own throat afterwards out of shame. But as he stood here, watching Kyle, his darling Jew, his unrequited love, his only true, exhilarating experience of romance and the reason his life had any kind of beauty and essence, walk away, possibly forever, Cartman welcomed the sting of tears. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared despairingly, knowing that any words he could say would be from that mangled heart of his that Kyle had breathed life into for countless years.

"I don't know who I am without you!" Cartman called out, without really thinking about it, but he knew it was true. His heart leapt into his throat when Kyle paused. Kyle's shoulders ridding themselves of tension as he let the most painfully vulnerable, tender words Cartman has ever said to him seep into his skin and make him feel whole, for now. "I'm no-one without you, Kahl!"

When Kyle finally turns around, breathing weakly, standing still and allowing the rain to take him, he whimpers through his tears "No, Cartman. We are somebodies. We're people outside of you and I and we have to find out who they are... We're different."

"What are you saying?" Cartman asks, that unmovable fear flaring.

"We need to be alone for a while" Kyle replies calmly, biting his lip and trying to avoid the juggernaut of terminal heartbreak. "Figure some stuff out."

"I don't think I can." Cartman pleads, triggering Kyle's tears. Both of them breaking down together. Like it should be. "Please don't do this."

"You can, Cartman." Kyle says sternly, reassuringly. He wishes he could say the same about himself.

They take one last, longing look of one and other. Their stares articulating the words they could never say, but it's barely a comfort. An aching thought crosses both their minds, how beautiful they look to each other and maybe it was because the last taste, the last kiss, the last dance and the last look were always the greatest, it didn't seem fair at all.

"I'll always love you" Kyle says, staring at Cartman deeply, begging him to believe it.

"I'll always love you too" Cartman replies, breaking Kyle for good, he can't stay here anymore.

"Goodbye" Kyle whispers bluntly, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, keeping his eyes lowered as he walks away. He knows that he'll cry all the way home, but he didn't give a fuck.

Kyle didn't look back, some childish part of Cartman wished that he would. Because if he did turn around, he would see Cartman watching him and the silent pain that had crept its way inside.

"Come back" Cartman whispered, dry and broken as Kyle became just another solitary figure in the rain.

34

When Kyle was a confused, awkward, completely clueless teenager, he consoled himself with the fact that, as an adult, his mistakes would be few and far between. Living in a small, podunk, redneck, mountain town in the middle of Colorado made the transition from child to adult harder than usual, in this fishbowl he would always be scrutinised and observed, constantly under pressure to be this idea of perfection that was only ever whispered about in circles he wasn't apart of. So he made mistakes to fit in, fell flat on his ass, picked himself up and tried again, but it wasn't until senior year that he realised he couldn't please everybody and what an idiot he had been for thinking otherwise.

When he was an adult, who paid taxes, had the right to vote, buy alcohol and could do a plethora of other things he couldn't do when he was the responsibility of his parents, he'd have experience and wisdom and that mistake-making chapter of his life would come to an end. Hopefully.

But when he was thirty-one, he made the biggest mistake of his life. And for the past three years, out of pride and the foolishly optimistic hope that things would get better, he allowed this mistake to grow.

Any enhancement on his life without Cartman around proved to be fruitless. He had the same routine, go to work, go to a bar, meet a guy, take him home, go to work, go to a bar, meet a guy, take him home, go to work, go to a bar, meet a guy, take him home. He could've paused this swift, neatly run paradigm and take things slow with a guy who had something special about them, but he couldn't bear the thought of getting too close. It didn't frighten him, it made him exhausted, tired of pretending that his life was any better now he wasn't seeing the object of his undying love every day, tired of thinking that maybe one, terrific guy would cast a shadow over the all-consuming light Cartman had lit in him years ago.

As he lay in his bed, wondering how long his one night stand was going to be in the shower, he resigned himself to the unshakeable, harsh truth that this meaningless sex thing was fine when he was in his twenties, but now it just seemed so pathetic. Maybe if he wasn't so painfully in love and trying his best to deny it then that wouldn't be the case? He didn't know. All he knew is that he had to find a boyfriend, a real boyfriend and fast. No flings, no mind games or self-inflicted obstacles. Just commitment, the kind of commitment that you stumble into without even thinking about it, not the kind that's forced or compromised to some degree. Through three years of separation Kyle realised that he was so close to having that with Cartman, if that fight had panned out differently, they would be together.

Three years of "soul-searching" and all Kyle discovered was something he knew all along. That maybe what him and Cartman had was dysfunctional, unhealthy, obsessive and masochistic, but there was something much more peaceful underneath. They didn't need separation or chasms where they were so close but still so far away. They needed each other and if they had just acknowledged that, if Kyle hadn't walked away and effectively tarnished their friendship, then they'd have exactly what they wanted. The storm would stop, calmness would prevail and fate would allow them to escape without a scratch.


Guilt was something Kyle never handled well. In fact, he thought that guilt was going to be the inevitable poison that would kill him someday.

Maybe even today. As he stepped out of the cab and onto the street he had purposely avoided for three years. To Kyle it seemed like the mild, subtle cacophony of the street whispered something, telling him that he had one hell of a nerve to come back here after what he did. The trees seemed to crane their nosy necks and glare down at him with pompous contempt, damning him for his mistake. Maybe he was being paranoid. No, he was definitely paranoid.

As he walked the short distance to Cartman's apartment, the molasses of guilt evaporated slowly and was replaced by something else. Fear. Kyle thought this was only a mild improvement, but it was probably better to wrestle with the lesser of two evils.

He didn't even know if Cartman lived here an ymore, ditching selfishly and naïvely thinking that everybody will just be fine with his disappearance was a typical Cartman thing to do. Even if he did still live here, there was no guarantee that he'd be home, he could be anywhere on this godforsaken planet. It was then that Kyle realised that he should havecalled first, but how insincere was that? Kyle knew more than anyone how damn hard to please Cartman was and a phonecall, no matter how apologetic and heartfelt, just wouldn't cut it. And besides, Kyle needed to see him again. He was craving him, his fingers twitching like an addict, his mind melting into static, discordant nonsense.

Kyle blamed this uncharacteristically spontaneous house call on his long shift at the hospital. He was exhausted, drained of self-control which meant that if Cartman wasn't there, Kyle would probably just start sobbing into the silent intercom. However, if Cartman was there and actually wanted to see Kyle, then Kyle would break down in tears, in Cartman's arms and probably fall asleep.

Kyle pressed the intercom button to Cartman's place, the door number faded and scratched. And he waited.

Halloween was two days ago, the feeble attempts at "scary" decorations hung listless, itching for attention. The heated, sickly sweet smell of candy and apples was still obnoxious, carried by the wind, intertwining with the perfume of pumpkins. Jack-O-Lanterns dotted the street sporadically, adding bright pops of glowing colours to this autumnal grey road.

Kyle smiled at the pretty display, consoling himself with the possibility that if Cartman wasn't home, he could just come back tomorrow and the next day and the next day. Kyle could kid himself that it would be rather noble of him.

But before Kyle could spin this as a tragic, beautiful testament to true love, a voice broke through the buzzer and stopped Kyle's heart for a millisecond. "Yeah?"

Kyle always made the mistake of underestimating Cartman's power over him. Hearing his voice again, especially when it sounded so unassuming, was enough to make him crash.

"Hi, it's me" Kyle replied. Wishing he had a better opening line, but he was so God damn nervous. He struggled to stand and his ears were trained on every moment of mocking, crisp silence the intercom offered him.

"Oh" Rolling down Kyle's spine. He felt like he was getting closer to-

"Can I come up?" Kyle asked shakily, a part of him somberly warning that he could be pushing his luck.

Kyle wondered whether Cartman knew how tortuous his silence was. Maybe Cartman hadn't grown out of screwing with Kyle's head.

"Sure" Cartman replied, albeit reluctant and short. But Kyle could ignore that, it didn't compare to this insane feeling of relief.


Cartman hoped that, in three years, those vulnerable, guileless words he said to Kyle would have no meaning. That they would just be a throwaway comment he made in desperation to get Kyle back. To his frustration, those words, that confession had never been more true. And now Kyle was here, probably reformed, moved on, fucking somebody else and Cartman was just a guy who made his life both a misery and a personal, ecstatic nirvana all at once. The last thing Cartman needed was Kyle bragging before gliding into a smugly happy soliloquy about how his life was happier, positively fantastic now that Cartman wasn't in it. Totally ignorant to the fact that he couldn't break Cartman, make him any more numb and bitter if he tried.

Though there was a surge of something, of delight and relief at hearing Kyle's voice. A sensation that was winged and fervid and suddenly, Cartman didn't feel so bad or depressed or cold. He felt like himself again. Kyle was the bullet that allowed a part of him to perish but he was also the breath that kissed what was lifeless. But like a maggot, still hunting for the decomposed, that destructive thought of; He's better of without you. All these years and you've got nothing to show for it obliterated any kind of rebirth.

Before Cartman could change his mind, tell Kyle to fuck off and 'what's three more years, Jewboy?" there was a knock at the door that he couldn't escape. And he had to face him whether he liked it or not. But at this moment, he had no idea what he wanted.

Cartman opened the door and just like that, they were broken in each other's glassy eyes. No words were spoken and Cartman stood there, defensive and intimidating, drinking Kyle in with an expression of thinly veiled resentment, his smile tainted with something a little less harsh, he sighed, almost wincing at Kyle's ability to control him in such a way. The silence was welcomed, comfortable, words would rush out too quickly, thoughtlessly and they weren't ready to leave each other just yet. Kyle felt some sad, fleeting hope swell, his stunned speechlessness elicited by this underwhelming encounter. Both of them still as stubborn as ever. If it was practical, they would stand here, in unspoiled, quiet conflict for the rest of their lives.

Kyle's jaw began to quiver and he couldn't bear to look at Cartman anymore. He didn't want to be cautious and distant, he wanted to be close and assured of something that he had no idea was still there or not. But Cartman still loved him, in spite of what happened. Kyle figured that all of this unconditional love he had harboured impatiently over the years, should be reciprocated. Even if Cartman just stood there, cold and unmoving, Kyle wouldn't notice, wouldn't care, because at least they were together.

So he collapsed into Cartman, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his head to his chest. Kyle listened to a murmured heartbeat, feeling the safest he'd ever been, comforted by the smell of Cartman's clothes and his soft chest and the breaths he was taking. Cartman relaxed and smiled defeatedly, pressing Kyle closer and embracing the silence. They inhale each other, trying to make up for the past three years, in vain.

Cartman tangles his fingers in Kyle's curls and feels a gilded tear tremble fervently over that infuriatingly human part of his heart. He may be apathetic and cold-hearted and narcisistic, but that didn't mean he couldn't fall for anybody. Especially if they were somebody as transcendent as Kyle.

"Kahl" Cartman moans weakly and he cringes at how pathetic he sounds, before adding more sternly "Look at me"

Kyle looked up at Cartman, confused and yearning, their reflections knot together through a toxic, vivacious green and an indulgent, sinful gold. Both of them felt a palpable fear that singed every breath, a fear of losing each other again, they clung to each other possessively, never breaking their stares.

They wanted to say sorry.

Wanted to say how much they missed each other, needed each other. Reassure each other that they did still love each other and always will.

How they didn't want things to go back to the way they were, they wanted things to move forward rapidly. With no games, or half-truths or denial.

How all they had learned in these years apart was that, like it or not, they couldn't make it on their own. Life was too empty and painfully meaningless without each other. How nobody could ever claim these asphyxiating emotions, not even themselves.

The confessions swam in their irises, dying to break free. Both of them wanting to hear it.

But it was matter of finding the words and letting them go.

Breathing was hard, eyes conflicted as they struggled in this difficult proximity. Kyle opened his mouth to say something before deciding against it, wishing that Cartman would say something to him, anything to calm his panicked heart. Cartman growled in the back of his throat, furrowing his eyebrows as thoughts of Kyle's lips replaced everything else. All these material things that he was sure he so desperately needed, didn't compare to the sickening, heady want of kissing Kyle until their mouths bruised.

The words they could stumble on later, Cartman reasoned as he forced Kyle's surprised mouth to his own in a suffocating kiss. All that longing and hurt was expressed fluently through the violent, crazed kiss, making Kyle feel guiltier and he grumbled in annoyance as the sinking feeling fought with the undeniable pleasure and joy that Cartman's kiss offered.

It still felt like they were fighting, alert and insanely fractious as their lungs swelled and the tension between them exploded into frenzied pieces of love and lust and a plethora of other overpowering emotions. Cartman's fingers, which were purled tightly around a fistful of Kyle's curls, relaxed and affection seeped in through the angry kiss.

Cartman smiled against Kyle's soft lips, Kyle whimpered and smiled back, slowly working the syllables in Cartman's name on his tongue. He moved his hands up to Cartman's broad shoulders before sweeping his lips across Cartman's once again.

The intense, fervent moans were cut off by the silky press of each other's lips. Being this close after all this time felt like the overwhelming minutes of freedom when you finally see a clear, rolling sky, like the spine-meltingly exquisite slithers of water on a dry tongue. Deprivation had been gnawing at their insides for so long that the impact was harder, greedier, doubly reckless. All these begging, protesting chemicals that whined for the touch, the attention, from one specific person, teemed and tingled with this contact.

Still, the anger, the unmistakable ache for confrontation was evident with every steely, clawed drag across skin, every bite and tug and every dizzying collision of lips. But every kiss hit a nerve, tattooed something across the rarest of flesh, it was every indignant, desperate, hysterical plea and demand that had fumed in their minds over the years.

"Hi" Cartman whispers humidly, a smile simmering on his kiss-flushed lips, tasting the heat on Kyle's again.

"Hi" Kyle replies breathlessly, the two laugh, sure that tears would start to shake out at any minute. They press their foreheads together, staring, fascinated and bemused, into each other's eyes. Feeling like dreams under each other's fingers.

Kyle's hooded eyes become infected with greed, reaching up for Cartman's mouth in a chaste kiss. His tongue finding its way inside without protest, groans warm and moist in the deepening kiss. Both of them slowly succumbing to this long-awaited bliss. How could they have been so stupid? How could they have walked away from something that seemed so essential?

Cartman whines softly when Kyle pulls away, a gentle thrum of arousal reverberates through Kyle when he hears that small, adorable sound. However, an unabashedly hungry moan escapes his damp mouth when Cartman trails his lips down Kyle's jaw and peppers his neck with kisses, licks and sucks that are sure to leave marks.

"How have you been?" Cartman asks, his voice coarse, taking a piece of Kyle's skin between his teeth.

Although Kyle wanted to say he's been good, just like he convinced himself he was, he didn't want to lie to Cartman. What would be the point? Besides any thoughts of having the upperhand or saving face had all evaporated. Kyle was more than happy to admit defeat if it meant having Cartman make him feel so vividly alive.

"Terrible" Kyle admits, with only a hint of sadness, finding Cartman's lips and moaning, unfulfilled, into his mouth "Without you" he adds roughly and candidly as their fierce kiss breaks.

"Yeah" Cartman replied weakly, his voice small and dry. "Me too"

"Cartman?" Kyle mewls through the chaste kisses their exchanging, swallowing each other's words like its oxidized candy.

"Hmm?" Cartman replies huskily, biting down on Kyle's lip, sending Kyle to quiver and slide deeper into the embrace.

"I'm so sorry." Kyle gasps, hoping that Cartman will kiss him in forgiveness.

"Kahl, don't." Cartman moans, practically pleading and Kyle can't ignore the vulnerability behind those words. "Just forget it."

"Alright." Kyle gasps, the thin word vanishing under the pressure of their mouths. Kyle's chest hurts, constricting. "It'll never happen again, I promise"

"I know" Cartman murmurs, knowing that Kyle is the only person who could fill him with so much faith. But if he had to believe in anyone, it could only be Kyle.

They continued to kiss frantically, moaning sincere, heartfelt words that were punctuated with addictive kisses.

"Oh my God" Cartman whimpers, willing himself not to cry, though his vision is blurry and all he can and would ever want to see is Kyle and he would kiss every beautiful, perfect inch of him everyday and never get tired of it.

"Kahl" And just moaning that word, so velvety and sweet is enough to make them both crumble.

"I've missed you so much." Sealing it with a hungry, fond kiss "You have no fucking idea"

"Hmm" Kyle moans, wishing he had something more intelligent to say but Cartman was leaving him strung out and worked up with every searing kiss.

"I've missed you too" Kyle replies, making sure that the kiss was broken and that Cartman could see the words written in his eyes as he spoke them. Kyle smiled wickedly, laughing weakly and adding before he was silenced again "You fucking asshole, I never thought I'd kiss you again."

The heat stung, their kisses grew wild and eager, a part of them whispering that they needed to closer.


"Self control really isn't our thing..." Kyle sighs, both exhausted and overwhelmingly happy. Lying on his stomach, breathing in the sweet scent of Cartman's pillows and smiling at the velvet pair of lips that are kissing his milky shoulders.

Cartman laughs softly under his breath before murmuring into Kyle's hair "Cut us some slack, Kahl.. It's been three years." The sentence feels wrong. The time they've been apart, the distance, feels twisted. It seemed that as soon as their hands were on each other and their mouths had collided, the separation started to repair itself, granting them the luxury of forgetting they were apart. If only for a heady, passionate period of time where they were the only two hearts in this world that were so ferociously intertwined.

"I guess" Kyle replies, he didn't want to apologise for what happened. It was pretty great, well, spectacular considering he was still chasing the ecstatic fireflies away from his vision.

Kyle turns around to face Cartman and they're lying side by side. Their appreciation of the little things they adored about each other swelled and it seemed to conceal every anxious thought that was starting to worm it's way back in. They could vow to themselves all they wanted that things were going to be different this time, but there was no guarantee of that. Not really. So to combat this, Cartman smiled at the childish freckles on Kyle's nose that you would notice if you looked close enough and Kyle gazed at Cartman's always arrogant smile that seemed to touch all his features with light. Both of them, however, thankful that they were here and how that's all they needed right now.

"The guys were wondering where you've been these past three Christmases..." Kyle murmurs, he knew the answer. But the last thing he would do is admit it. He told Stan and Kenny that he had no idea where Cartman was. And sure enough, guilt would mar a holiday that he technically didn't celebrate.

"Seriously?" Cartman sighs, feeling guilty himself, it was an emotion that he would never get used to. It was disgusting. He rolled his eyes and asked indignantly "When did those pricks start caring about me?"

"They've always cared about you!" Kyle snaps before he strokes Cartman's arm and adds softly "But you haven't exactly given them the opportunity to show it"

"Because I'm the biggest jerk on the planet, aren't I?" Cartman scowls, his eyes lowering.

"Sometimes" Kyle shrugs, and his smile is infectious. Though he pressed on. "But you're still not giving me an answer to why you've skipped all these Christmases."

Cartman rolls his eyes, looking up at the ceiling and he combs his hair with his fingers, looking for the right words. "Kahl, you know why I've been bailing. I wanted to see you, but..."

"Yeah?" Kyle whispers, staring.

"I figured it would be too difficult. I was already messed up and I knew that seeing you and everything, back home with all that festive bullcrap, it would be too much and I'd end up doing something stupid."

"Like what?"

"Begging you to change your mind. Acting like an obnoxious tool and bragging about how over you I was, even though that's impossible. Drinking too much. Killing Kenny, wouldn't be the first time I'd done that. How is Kenny, anyway?" Cartman asks, his eyes finding Kyle once more.

"Good" Kyle laughs, rolling his eyes "Still smoking weed and bar-tending. His sister just set up some charity for underprivileged kids or something..."

"Well, I suppose she would know a lot about that." Cartman replies.

"Please don't tell me you've been alone during Christmas?" Kyle asks, he'd feel like a complete douchebag if Cartman said yes.

"No" Cartman shrugs "I just don't stay here, I work and stuff."

"Really?" Kyle asks, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Sure, Jew."

"By yourself?"

"No! I always make sure that I hook up with some guy or girl. At least that way I have something to wake up to on Christmas morning." Christmas in the tropics was okay, but it didn't compare to the snow and the evergreens and watching reruns of holiday specials with your childhood friends.

"Wonderful" Kyle mutters sarcastically, irrational, sour jealousy knotting his stomach.

"Kahl, are you jealous?" Cartman asks, trying to contain his satisfied laughter and childish pride. Having this ability to make Kyle jealous was something he had never considered before and it was a sickeningly amazing feeling.

"No" Kyle mumbles angrily, hating how he's blushing and how he can't even look at Cartman.

"Oh my God, you're so jealous!" Cartman laughs, delighted and yet smug and infuriating and making Kyle want to punch him in the face. "You've never been jealous before!"

"Actually, I have, you fucking idiot!" Kyle snaps and it only chips some of Cartman's glee away, pissing Kyle off never failed to please. "I've been jealous of every person you've had in your bed who isn't me!"

"Wow" Cartman smiles dreamily. Envy was a very, very attractive shade on Kyle.

"What?" Kyle asks, his anger faltering, blushing crazily as Cartman pulled him closer. It was a lot easier to win arguments and to not cave in to Cartman when they were younger, when touches and kisses couldn't be used against each other. Such simpler times.

"This whole envy thing, you've got going on?" Cartman murmurs as his lips trail over the column of Kyle's throat. "It just made you even hotter."

"That's fucked up" Kyle laughs under his breath.

Suddenly, Cartman was looking into Kyle's eyes, their lips brushing together."Dude, you've got nothing to worry about. The most annoying thing about you Kahl, is that nobody could ever come close to being as perfect as you. Which means trying to get over you is a million times harder."

And that made Kyle feel a little better. Although his anger was known for taking a while to simmer down. "That's some consolation" Kyle replies before closing the tiniest of gaps with a chaste kiss.

A few aimless, greedy kisses later, Kyle asked softly against Cartman's mouth "Seen everything yet?"

Through the drowsiness and the gentle contentment rolling over them in droves, it took a while for Cartman to understand what Kyle meant. But then he remembered Starks pond, all those years ago, all those questions, hopes and their reflections in the water. "No" he finally answered.

"How many more places have you crossed off your list?"

"This year?" Cartman smirks, dying to see the envy in Kyle again.

"Sure, whatever" Kyle mutters, rolling his eyes.

"Atlanta, Shanghai, Amsterdam and Moscow... Which reminds me" Cartman replies, letting go of Kyle before looking through his dresser.

While Cartman cursed in his own eloquent, colorful way, rummaging through the recesses of his dresser drawer, Kyle lay back and stared up at the stars winking down on him from the skylight. Just looking up at those twinkling freckles, that had escaped the murkiness of the city, made him feel like the universe was working in his favour, the Gemini extending their celestial hands. That sceptical, cynical side of him dismissed this reunion, that they were too old to learn from their mistakes or act any different, that this second chance would be wasted. Kyle shivered at Cartman's absence and wondered maybe if he stepped out of this bed, he would jinx everything. Right now, these sheets, these kisses and stars were keeping him afloat.

"Here" Cartman's voice disrupted Kyle's thoughts, thankfully. Through the dimmed lights of the room, Cartman handed Kyle a satin, black, rectangular box, similar to the box that contained the Emerald brooch Cartman had given him sixteen years ago.

The look on Cartman's face troubled Kyle slightly. It was just so... calm. There was no hint of excitement or nervousness, though Kyle knew that Cartman hated to let his guard down and show anything besides indifference, arrogance or any intimidating, infuriating emotion in between. If you could call it "emotion".

With anxious fingers, Kyle slipped the dove grey ribbon away from the box and opened the lid. The gratuitous amount of tissue paper, did nothing for his peace of mind. Kyle looked up from the wispy foam of silver sea and met Cartman's cool eyes.

"Kahl, don't look so God damn scared. Just open it."

"I am!" Kyle snapped childishly, grabbing the tissue paper and ripping through its layers with reckless abandon. No longer concerned about what was in the box but more intent on proving Cartman wrong. A childhood habit that he still hadn't grown out of.

"Why are you acting like such a pussy?" Cartman teased.

"Because after thirty years I still don't know what you're capable of. Let's face it, this box could contain pretty much anything. A baggie of coke, roofies, the severed fingers of some Romanian gangster..." Kyle replies as he throws away the last layer of tissue paper.

"Okay, first, if you want coke then you can come with me to L.A. in a few weeks. Secondly, I don't need to slip roofies into someone's drink to get them to sleep with me. I certainly don't need to do that to fuck you and thirdly, I may be that sadistic but I'm not that romantic. Or creepy."

Kyle laughs impatiently, punching Cartman softly on the shoulder before he picked up the mysterious item. A ceramic Russian doll with a surprised, naïve painted smile, blushing cheeks and feline eyes, it's irises hung a pretty shade of teal. Intricate patterns of summer flowers bloomed in a plethora of orange; amber and apricot, coral and peach, rust and sunset, polished and gleaming. Lime vines intertwined with every flower and meshed with the crawling Jade ivy, glittering as it met the light.

"Green and orange. Those colors remind me of you" Cartman explained, embarrassed as Kyle's grateful eyes ran over the doll that sat heavily in his palm.

"Wow. It's so pretty." Kyle barely breathed out. Transfixed on the lucid shades, weirdly flattered that something so beautiful could remind Cartman of him. "It's nice to see you were still thinking about me"

"Come on, I always think about you" Cartman smiled, running his hands shyly through his chestnut hair, wishing he could stop blushing. He bit his lip, and thought about a question he was hesitating to ask. He figured he might as well ask it. "These past couple of years, were you... have you been thinking about me?"

"I haven't been able to stop." Kyle answered, smiling reassuringly at Cartman. The both of them trying to reach the difficult words and the aching questions.

Cartman swallows, stroking Kyle's hand and asking "You aren't seeing anyone, are you?"

Kyle smiles knowingly, teenage, anticipating butterflies fluttering triumphantly in the pit of his stomach. He shakes his head, urging Cartman to ask it. Begging. Pleading. Waiting with still breath. "Why?" Trying to be as coy as possible.

"Because we should go grab a beer sometime or something... But not as friends... As more, I mean as a... Well, you know..." The manipulative, persuasive side of him, that could convince anybody to do anything was failing Cartman. Only Kyle, he thought, only that damn Jew could make me look so fucking pathetic. He's my match, right?

"Cartman, are you asking me out on a date?" Kyle smirks, leaning forward. If envy was a flawed trait that Cartman liked on Kyle, then nervous embarrassment was a flawed trait that Kyle found heart-wrenchingly adorable on Cartman. "I've known you for nearly thirty years and now you ask me out on a date?"

"Just give me an answer, Jewboy." Cartman snaps. "Before I change my mind." Though they both knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Yes, fatass. I would love to go on a date with you." Kyle answers, silent electricity crackling between the both of them. Something amazing was going to happen, after all these years, it had to be.

"I guess that three years gave you the push you needed, huh?" Kyle asks, his head cradled in Cartman's hand after they shared an affectionate, blunt kiss.

"Maybe" Cartman shrugs, glancing at Kyle's lips, sighing and admitting "I've been acting like a fucking idiot since I was sixteen so I wanna make up for it"

"Sixteen? Really? I'm pretty sure you were an idiot before then" Kyle laughs, scowling when Cartman messes up his hair. Granted it was already dishevelled but still, it was annoying.

"You're such a bitch, Jewboy" Cartman jokes, his voice softening and he wraps his arm around Kyle's waist "I've kinda missed it."

"And I've missed your charming way with words" Kyle replies, biting his lip and resting his forehead against Cartman's. "Amongst other things"

Something told Kyle that he wouldn't be going home tonight.

36

Every relationship has that one defining moment. So if you're lucky enough to grow old together, you can trace this bliss back to that one, particular moment that made you sure you wanted to spend the rest of your life with your "other half" or whatever you want to call it.

For Cartman and Kyle this moment happened after they had been dating for eight months. They had gone through the drama of explaining to their parents and most importantly Stan and Kenny that they were dating when they went home for Christmas.

It could've gone better.

They were pretty sure that Stan had an aneurysm at the sight of them walking into his parents house, holding hands. He hadn't seen Cartman in three years and now here he was, dating his super best friend. Kenny, however, could hardly contain his laughter and was acting like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

"So... You and Cartman, huh?" Stan had asked anxiously when him and Kyle were on their own. He could hardly look at Kyle. He wanted him to be happy, but this was pretty unbelievable. Considering that Kyle had no problem professing his hate for the boy throughout their childhood.

"Yeah" Kyle replies flatly, trying to make the whole thing a little less bizarre "You're not jealous are you?"

Stan shot him a deathly glare that extinguished Kyle's joke. Humour certainly wasn't appreciated.

"That's not funny, Kyle"

"Clearly" Kyle muttered, finishing his beer.

"I'm not trying to be a dick or anything, it's just that... I don't trust him-"

"Well, I do" Kyle snaps.

"Yeah, but I don't want you to get hurt, you know?" Stan says earnestly, Kyle understood where he was coming from. Still, it killed him that Stan was reacting this way.

Kyle frowns, considering his words before saying "He loves me, Stan. He'd never hurt me, we've been through so much that he wouldn't dare."

"Alright" Stan sighs, albeit reluctantly. But Kyle expected that. "It's gonna take a while for me to get used to this, though."

"I get it, dude" Kyle smiles gratefully. Knowing he couldn't ask for anything more.

Meanwhile, Cartman didn't get any brotherly concern from Kenny. Not like he needed it in the first place.

"What did I tell you, dude?" Kenny laughs smugly. He wasn't an idiot, maybe now Cartman would see that.

"Shut the fuck up, Kenny" Cartman replies, his words lacking any kind of bite. Life was too good and he was too happy to rip on that annoying, white trash twerp.

It was in the following June that the definitive moment happened. They were sitting in the hospital cafeteria (if Cartman wasn't in Godknowswhere then he'd usually meet up with Kyle during his lunch break) Kyle told Cartman about his patients, Cartman asked Kyle how he could drink this watered down excuse for orange juice and eat these bland French fries day in day out...

But suddenly, there was a shift in the paradigm when Cartman asked "Would you like it if I had a job where my chances of getting arrested are significantly lower?"

"Yes" Kyle answered honestly, without a second thought.

"Alright" Cartman replies "I'll quit"

Kyle looked up at Cartman from his lukewarm meal with confused, disbelieving eyes, searching for any signs that he was joking. Surprisingly, none appeared.

"Really?" Kyle whispers, his mouth dry.

"Yep"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that" Cartman smiles. Even when he had been working non stop for eight hours, was stressed out due to the copious amount of coffee he had drank and was wearing unflattering, pale blue scrubs, Cartman thought that Kyle was beautiful. And he was worth everything.

"But you love your job..."

"Sometimes" Cartman shrugs before taking a deep breath and saying "But I think I've seen everything now. Besides, it's not about me anymore, it's about us and I think I could learn a lot about compromise. So there it is, I'll quit my job."

"But I-" Kyle begins to say, something asphyxiating and palpable, hammering in the back of his throat. He may have been delighted, relieved and strangely proud of Cartman, but it still didn't dismiss the fact that Cartman was sacrificing this wonderful (if slightly ominous) job where he got to travel and see things that Kyle could only dream of or hear about in crackled phone calls. And it was all for Kyle. It was guilt. Again. God damn it. "But that job makes you so happy. You're doing what you said you would all those years ago! You can't quit just for me! I don't want to make you miserable, I don't want to be the reason for you leaving your-"

"Well, tough shit Jewboy, you are!" Cartman interrupts testily. Still, he didn't want to make a scene in the cafeteria. Those days were behind him, sort of. He softened his voice and continued "Yeah, you are the reason I'm quitting but... You're also the reason I'm the happiest I've ever been. I don't need that job anymore but I sure as Hell need you, Kahl"

And that was it. There was no swelling score, no flowers, candles or even any fireworks. There wasn't a carefully orchestrated plan or a speech that had been poured over for days. Both of them doubted there ever would be. There was a brooch in a box somewhere and a Russian doll that sat proudly on Kyle's dresser but that was it. Still, Kyle was wooed just the same. The smell of stale cafeteria food, the muted noises of shrill beepers and the mundane conversations of the other tables faded into the background and all that was left was Cartman's words and his smile and the urge Kyle had to just lean over and kiss him. Whirring memories rippled in the waters of his mind, their first date, meeting Cartman at the airport when he flew back from L.A., Christmas and then out of nowhere they were kids again, fighting and hurting, stubborn eyes intertwining. Then they were sixteen and a shiver trickles down Kyle's spine at how limp he felt in Cartman's arms and how nobody had ever kissed him so passionately before. But above all else, above every chaotic, crazy experience Kyle had ever had, Cartman was still all there had ever been. In Kyle's mind anyway and he wanted that notion to remain with him for the rest of his life.

"I love you" Kyle says tenderly, his hand clasping Cartman's wrist. And when they look at each other, their eyes are both damp.

"I love you too" Cartman smiles, blushing slightly, since stuff like this didn't usually come natural to him. But with Kyle all these words and feelings that he had tried to hard to fight and struggled with, just came out so easily. Compromising, sharing and letting somebody else become just as important to him as himself didn't seem so daunting if it was all for Kyle.

With that realisation, everything else started to slowly fall into place.

By October they were talking about renting an apartment. However, it seemed that finding an apartment they both liked was a struggle in itself. Christmas rolled around and there was still no progress. But, hey, it had only been two months, right?

"You guys found a place yet?" Kenny had asked them on Christmas Eve, grabbing yet another smuggled beer from the six pack he had stolen from the bar basement. Since he was the only member of staff trusted with the keys, he of course had to take advantage of being the number one employee and let his friends stay after last call and give them beers on the house.

"No" Kyle sighs, there was something melodramatic about sitting in a beer-scented room, talking to his bartender friend about his problems. "It fucking sucks. We haven't found one place that we both like."

"That's because you're both stubborn" Stan points out, opting for whiskey instead of beer. Although Jameson and Stan was a dangerous combination.

"Wow, thanks for your insight, Marsh" Cartman replies. Stan simply flipped him off and drank what was left in his tumbler.

"Well, if you're having a hard time finding apartments in the city then why don't you just try looking for apartments here? I mean, it's gotta be cheaper than Denver, right?" Kenny shrugs.

"Move back here?"

"Yeah!" Kenny smiles "I need other God damn company besides Craig! He's good for getting stoned with I suppose but apart from that... Besides, I've seen a few houses for sale. Maybe you can't decide on an apartment because deep down you think a house would be better?"

"I don't know..." Cartman says dismissively, not really in the mood to entertain Kenny's ideas.

"Yeah, what about my job?" Kyle asks.

"There's a hospital here, dumbass!"

Moving back to South Park felt like everything coming full circle. It was all rather eerie. Still, Kyle was becoming increasingly annoyed with Denver. He supposed that moving back here wasn't to crazy, after all the town had changed a lot since they were kids, the destruction and madness had pretty much vanished. Everything felt so much calmer and clearer in the mountains. Waking up to fresh snow and sugar-coated peaks seemed more appealing than waking up to traffic and apartment blocks.

"What do you think?" Kyle asked, turning to Cartman.

"Whatever. I guess we could give it a shot"

"Great!" Kenny beams "Now all we need is dear Stanley to move back here and it'll be just like old times!"

"Sorry Ken, but I think I'll stick to California" Stan smiles and nobody could really blame him.

After the warm, exciting festive cheer disappeared along with the Christmas trees and holly wreaths, Kyle was still toying with the idea of moving back home. Meanwhile, Cartman was less enthusiastic. But he figured that he could "compromise". Which meant wasting his precious time commuting back and forth to South Park every weekend with Kyle to look at all these supposedly wonderful and cheap houses for sale.

These little trips would follow a strict itinerary. On the drive into town, Cartman would pout and deem this whole thing as "bullshit" while Kyle would fight the urge to pull over and punch him in the mouth, instead resorting to passive aggressively threatening Cartman to make him shut up. They'd look around a couple of houses, Kyle with the kind of mature open-mindedness that Cartman thought was stupid while he would adopt the slightly more childish approach of being abbraisively cruel about every minor flaw. The drive back would consist of the two bickering until Cartman said something funny and mildly apologetic. At this point, Kyle would try his hardest not to laugh, knowing full well that pride always lost in situations like these.

This whole ordeal lasted for a good month, until the stupid realtor saved "The best 'til last". The kind of house that, if shown sooner, could've effectively halved all the marital, stupid arguments Cartman and Kyle had had. And if Cartman could have told the bitch that, then he would've.

The selling point? A pool in the backyard. The only house in South Park, the realtor pointed out, that had one. Well, except for Clyde's old house. But Cartman argued that this pool was actually built in unlike Clyde's shitty hot tub contraption.

And after seeing that house, Cartman and Kyle didn't argue once on the drive back to Denver. All they talked about was putting a deposit down. Oh, and the fact that Cartman had so much fucking money. It made Kyle seriously think about his career choices. If only he had spent his eighteenth summer with Cartman instead of nervously waiting for letters telling him that he had been accepted into college or, well, being heartbroken and thoroughly pissed off at Cartman.

A few weeks later, with heavy trepidation, Kyle went for his interview at Hells Pass. All he could get was a fellowship for now, but it was something. And he figured that if Cartman could compromise, he could too.

But it all seemed to be worth it, when on a mercilessly cold, yet crisp and clear April morning, Kyle woke up in a not-quite-yet-decorated bedroom in his new house, with Cartman sleeping next to him and splinters of the Rocky Mountain sunlight scattered themselves across his bed.


They moved in three days ago and there was still stuff to unpack. That kind of drove Kyle crazy since he was so organised and, in turn, impatient about these kind of things. Even if it the aforementioned unpacked things were mostly stuff for a kitchen they would probably get minimal use out of.

Kyle ignored Cartman's grumbles of complaint and his pathetically feeble attempts at co-operating by occupying his thoughts with decisions of how to organise the drawers or the pool. More specifically, what they were going to do with it in the winter. Maybe they could let the water ice over and go ice skating? But as Kyle stared out of the patio doors and onto the frigid, still water, that lapped up the softly falling snow and grinned back at the reflection of clouds, sky and mountains, he decided that he didn't really care what happened during those cold, winter months. As long as he and Cartman could drink beers and have a barbecue by their pool on the fourth of July then it'd be fine.

"Is it just me or does the pool kinda remind you of Stark's Pond? With the snow falling and everything..." Kyle finds himself sighing. "It's actually really pretty"

Cartman looked up at Kyle, who was deep in thought and letting his eyes wander over their backyard, over the houses and mountains to some intangible place. And Cartman realised that Kyle looked so piercingly beautiful in that moment, like the elusive water and the thick blanket of white that framed it perfectly. Even if Kyle wasn't looking back at him, it was so obvious.

"Sure is" Cartman smiles softly, staring at Kyle a little longer before dropping whatever bullshit, pointless task Kyle had given him and taking him by surprise. Grabbing Kyle and scooping him up into his arms effortlessly.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Kyle shouts, desperately, and slightly begrudgingly, wrapping his arms tightly around Cartman's neck. Although he didn't want to encourage whatever Cartman had planned he sure as Hell didn't want to fall and crack his skull on the kitchen tiles. "We still have stuff to unpack!"

Like that would make a difference. Kyle knew that he was pretty much helpless here, Cartman was holding him like a fucking bride, with no intention of putting him down. Still, Kyle was prepared to fight, although his kicks and shouts of "Put me down you crazy fuck before I kill you!" were all being ignored. Cartman thought that Kyle wasn't really in the position to kill anyone right now.

"Kahl, we have all day to unpack!" Cartman laughed, fumbiling with the door handle, before the glass panel swung open. Allowing the snow and the bitingly cold air to drift in.

"Don't you wanna try out the pool?" Cartman murmured teasingly in Kyle's ear. His warm breath making a shiver go down Kyle's spine, immediately hating it.

"Yes, but not against my will!"

"Too bad, Jewboy" Cartman smirks. "You should've thought about that before you agreed to live with me."

"You're fucking deranged!" Kyle shouts as every crunch of snow makes his stomach turn.

"Like I haven't heard that before" Cartman mutters, rolling his eyes.

"If we go in that damn thing we're gonna get hypothermia!" Kyle snaps, trying to control the hilarious panic in his voice. "Or haven't you noticed the three feet of snow on the ground?!"

"Man the fuck up, Kahl!" Cartman laughs "Before I revoke your right to own testicles..."

Kyle continued to kick and struggle while Cartman continued to be entertained by Kyle's failed attempts at escape.

"Oh fuck" Kyle whispered, tightening his already excruciating grip around Cartman's neck as they stood by the deep end of the pool.

"Ready, Kahl?"

"No!"

"One-"

"Cartman"

"Two"

"Seriously, don't you fucking dare!"

"Three!"

Kyle squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face into Cartman's shoulder as they fall into the water. Metallic, numb coldness yawned, swallowing the both of them. The ice puncturing their lungs and clouding their eyes, breaking free of each other.

The two resurface, their dripping hair sticking to their foreheads, blinking the irritating water out of their eyes and gasping for breath.

"You fucking asshole! Are you fucking happy now?!" Kyle shouts, splashing Cartman as they both try to speak coherently, their bodies racked with shivers. "Mother of fuck, it's fucking freezing! I fucking hate you!"

"Then why are you smiling?" Cartman asks, biting his lip, laughing smugly under his breath when Kyle blushes and his smile widens.

"God damn it, Cartman" Kyle sulks, folding his arms childishly.

"Come here, Jew" Cartman sighs and although Kyle could happily strangle him, there was something so weirdly attractive about Cartman at this moment which made Kyle hate him even more.

"I'm sorry, Kahl" Cartman smiles when Kyle wraps his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. "But that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was! That was fucking terrible and if you do that to me again I'm leaving you."

"Understood."

They made no attempts to get out of the pool after the gentle, infectious laughter died down. Because this silent, peaceful moment was just that.

"Okay, honestly" Kyle asks "Did you ever think we would end up like this?"

"Like what?"

"Being together" Kyle answers. "Living together and all that crap."

Cartman glances down at he and Kyle's thin reflections in the water, intertwined and simple, before nodding.

"How?" Kyle asks, occoring to him that he truly had no idea how much faith Cartman had in them.

"I know this is gonna sound stupid but..." Cartman begins, swallowing that trembling lump of fear that always lurched when he had to be so painfully honest "For as long as I've known you I've never been able to picture my life without you in it... It's just this strange, wonderful thing you have inside you Kahl, that kinda grabbed my attention and made me wanna follow you forever. Because I'd never let anybody think that they meant more to me than what I had them believe. If they were pussies then, that's it, they were pussies. If they were uptight, heartless bitches then they were uptight heartless bitches. If they were retarded, weak-willed degenerates then, well, you get the idea... But not you, Kahl. No matter how many names I called you to make you and myself believe that bullshit, I just couldn't. I don't think you realise how inescapably amazing you are. I would do anything to keep you with me and make you happy. So I was willing to wait for you and stick it out. Because I knew that we could have something that was really good, better than most people have, you know? Even if I got in my own way sometimes. I'm not really good at the whole relationship, commitment thing... But you've changed that, right? Look, even if I had one day to live and that was the day that we decided to give this a shot then I would've left that hospital and spent my last day on Earth with you. Even if it was just one day, I'd die happy because I had those hours where you and I were what we were supposed to be."

"Wow" Kyle gasps, suffocating on the word. His hand slips away from Cartman's neck and reaches out to catch the drops of water that land on his face. Wanting to be closer, to tangle himself in Cartman's embrace and kiss him all over. Because confessions like this didn't happen very often. Hell, the "L word" didn't happen very often.

"See, I told you it was stupid..." Cartman mutters, squirming and blushing. Hating himself for being such a pussy.

"No, Cartman." Kyle whimpers "It's not stupid."

"So" Cartman begins before asking "You never thought we'd be together?"

Kyle considers his words and how he could explain all those years of desperate highs and lows, hopes and harsh realities. He finally sighs and says "Well, when I was younger I thought that we would have to end up together someday. Because it was us and it was like, I don't know... If I ended up with somebody else you would still be the one thing that was missing from my life. I, I know that I could never stop loving you. Even if I wanted to. But the years went by and nothing happened and the idea of you and I just felt like a lost cause, I don't know..."

Kyle stares down at the water. All that hurt regurgitating, the sting, the taste, the impact never burns out. Because our brains aren't kind enough to dispose of that.

"Hey" Cartman says softly, tipping Kyle's chin up with his index finger. Eyes reuniting like long-lost lovers, cautious but gentle. "We're here now. And all that matters is that we made it, right?"

"Right" Kyle smiles, not caring when tears burn his face.

Their kiss is cold but warm at the core, both of them melting at that familiar heat. Moaning and smiling against each other's blue lips.


"I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane" -John Green, Looking For Alaska