- O B S E S S I O N -
"Obsession is a drop of water on the desert – crave it, savor it, remember it"
C H A P T E R - O N E : U N W A N T E D - C O N F E S S I O N S
It's 9:45 PM on a Friday night, right on the dot.
It's my weekly fix.
I sneak out of my house at 9:00 PM always on a Friday. I count every minute, every second it takes to get to his window.
It takes exactly 15 minutes and 20 seconds to get to his house. I swear I'm not obsessed, I mean I can stop this anytime.
That's what I tell myself anyway.
I take the rope I brought and I throw it over the third rafter next to his window. I pull the rope once or twice to make sure it's steady enough to hold my large weight. Then I start to climb up till I reach his window, it's unlocked but the curtains are always drawn. I start to chuckle a bit, thinking about how unaware he is of my almost weekly ritual.
Right about now he should be taking his nightly shower, I'm just in time.
My hands begin to sweat as I pull open the window doors and part dark blue curtains to reveal a neatly organized room. I inhale the very essence of it, memorizing every scent and every detail because it would have to last me a whole week. I draw the curtains to a close and stand at the darkest corner of the room.
I hear the bedroom door open. I hold my breath for a moment.
I was glad the room was dark, dark enough so that he would not be able to see the slight blush on my cheeks or the longing in my eyes.
He begins to cross the room, stopping to lift the blue blanket that covers his bed and then begins to lie down. He facing away from me so I could not see his face, but I know he has closed his eyes.
His breathing has begun to slow.
Around this time I would wait till he was deeply asleep, and then sneak out once again through the window thus concluding my ritual, but today is different. Only after a few moments of slumber he opens his eyes and throws the sheets off his body. His breathing is slightly faster as he sits up.
I press my back harder against the wall, could he have figured me out. No, I told myself, it's too dark for him to notice.
In the darkness I can see his still red damp hair cling to the sides of his face. He leans his body against the headboard of his bed. He closes his eyes as he plucks the buttons from his blue night shirt.
His breath hitches, so does mine.
He plucks them one by one, taking his time.
It was pure torture. The last button was off, and now his bare chest was exposed.
God, he is so fucking beautiful.
He takes his shaking right hand and slides it down his bare chest. Moaning as he pinches his nipples with his fingers.
I can only stare hypnotized by the hand that slowly slides down his now bare chest. His hand stops on top of the waist-band of his pants.
I lick my lips in anticipation.
His hands grab the band of is pants, slowly sliding his pants down his slim legs. He fumbled to remove his boxers, the only last barrier that kept him from his sinful goal.
My whole lower body tightened with need, my fingers ached to touch him, but I restrained myself.
Some how my hands found it's way down my pants, while my fingers swiftly and quietly unzipped them. I sighed in relief as my need was freed from its confines of my pants.
I stare at the boy in front of me.
He unknowingly begins to stroke himself in front of me, while my hands follow in unison.
He pants faster as he nears his climax; our hands are synchronized stroke for stroke. It was a primal dance but with no one leading.
I close my eyes, I was so close.
I wanted to hear him call my name as he climaxed, I wanted to hear his voice call my name, but that was impossible.
With our last strokes we came together, his cries of pleasure sent me over the edge. I wanted to scream his name, but instead I bit my lip screaming his name inside.
As I lay limp in the darkness, he lays there with his hands covering his face and his body shaking with tears.
What I heard next made my blood run cold.
"I'm so fucking disgusting," he whispers, "but I can't help myself."
"If you knew what I think about you, you would hate me….forever."
"Stan I love you so much it hurts," he cries out. "It fucking hurts."
With these last words he slumps down, burying his face in his pillows.
I take me a few moments to register what he had just confessed. .
The only thought that goes through my mind is, this can't be true.
I can't believe it. I won't believe it.
I wait a few minutes till he is completely asleep, then I begin to tidy myself. I get ready to leave and take one last look at him.
"I will have you no matter what it takes," I whisper.
"I won't let you out of my grasp, not when I've loved you for so long."
"You will be mine Kyle, just you wait."
A U T H O R S - N O T E: So how was my first Cartman x Kyle fic? I'm taking a break from writing Drake & Josh fics...for now. I will continue them at a later time. So there is no confusion Cartman and gang (aka: Kyle, Stan, Kenny, etc.) are in high school. They are 15 - 17 years years of age. This was going to be a one shot, but I decided to make it multi-chaptered. There are some grammar errors and such, so please ignore them. Please review and tell me what you think. The reviews are great inspiration -hint-
Also, look out for my other South Park fanfictions I will be writing. Mostly likely Cartman x Kyle, possibly Cartman x Butters and Cartman x Kenny (or others). I have to South Park bunnies and they won't leave me alone XDD
See you soon!
- Taboo Love