As always, written by someone who was very, very tired. XD

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Stan sat in the school basketball court, watching Kenny absentmindedly try to throw the ball around. He laughed every time the poor boy flinched.

"Aye!" He heard from a distance

"Oh for fucks sake…," He muttered, and didn't even bother turning around. After a time longer than it should have been he felt hot, panting breath on his neck. The fatass must have ran.

"What do you want Cartman?"

"Where's Jewboy?"

"You ran all the way over here to ask me that?" Stan rolled his eyes. There was a short pause and then Stan sighed, "he's sick today."

"Oh what a fucking surprise! Asshole has an immune system like…a bug."

"Huh?"

"Bugs are small. They probably have really bad immune systems."

"Bugs aren't really known for their diseases are they?"

"I'm sorry, black people then."

"You are such an asshole Cartman," Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

There was no answer as Cartman for a while. Then he just sighed really loudly.

"Screw this," He muttered and stalked off. Stan just rolled his eyes and watched Kenny as a wayward ball smacked him in the face.

***

Kyle felt Cartman in his blood. He liked to blame it on the fact that he had his kidney inside him after all; but it didn't offer much explanation to other such symptoms. I mean, does the kidney affect your breathing? Whenever the fatass was near his lungs felt compressed to the size of a grain of salt. He felt like the boy was crawling around inside him, but in the way alcohol does. A warm, sickly feeling.

"Bubbie! One of your little friends is here to see you!" He heard his mothers voice through a thick fog. Probably Stan coming to check on him.

"You look like shit." He heard. That voice. Always that voice.

"Hello to you too."

"What is it this time?"

"It's a cold."

"You're fucking green."

"Colds make you green."

"You match your hat."

"Be careful Cartman," Kyle tasted his name in his mouth, "you might start to sound like you care."

"I'd like to think we're past those stupid games now, aye?" Cartman walked over to the end of the bed and cocked his head to the side, "room for me?"

"Doubt it, fatass."

"You're weak and frail and yet you still muster up the strength to call me names," Cartman glared, "nice."

"Oh, just get in."

Cartman raised his eyebrows but sauntered over. He pushed his way next to Kyle under the covers. He placed his hands around the thin boy's waist and pulled him close to his overgrown belly.

"You're warm."

"That's the whole point stupid," Cartman said, and trailed his hands along Kyle's sides. Three months of…this. Whatever it was. It was like they were attached together all along and lately had stopped fighting it.

It was awesome to end that torture of not touching. That overflowing, foaming connection. Never call it love.

"Stop squirming," Kyle complained.

"You shouldn't have such a tiny bed Jew. I know you have moneh, go buy a normal sized one!"

"Then you'd be over here all the time!"

"Oh, please," Sarcasm. Cartman's breath was felt so hot on Kyle's neck. The entirety of him was pressed against him and every sense was on high alert. He was stiff all over. So was Cartman, he felt it on his back. Erratic breaths now.

They wouldn't do anything about it today. Or tomorrow. Or even in a month. Eventually, maybe. Someday.

But for now this was enough not to go insane. Not to kill each other - or themselves. Not to just burst and start fucking in the middle of class. Your adversary - not your soul mate - is your other half.

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Stan waited for Sheila to open the door for him. School was finally over and he wanted to go see how Kyle was doing. At least to give him their homework. Kyle was always so sick it was unfair that he shouldn't have to do it.

"Oh hey Stan," Sheila said, ushering him in, "you can just go right along upstairs. Your other friend is here too. Kyle is so lucky to have such great friends-"

"Yeah that's great Mrs. Broflovski," Stan tried to cut her off politely, and gave her an award winning smile. She just patted him on the head and he went over to Kyle's room. Door opening…

What the fuck?

The two sleeping figures on the bed barely stirred as he came in. Was that Cartman? Stan blinked a couple times. Still there. They even breathed in sync.

Eyes bulging in shock, he left and gently shut the door.