Author's Note

Hello again, everyone! Long time, no see!

After finishing my last story, life simply got in the way—as to be expected. But in spite of that, the gears have never stopped turning.

This story has been a rough draft in my head and on my computer for a better part of the past year. But only during the course of South Park's nineteenth season airing did the pieces begin falling into place. As such, this story takes place shortly after Season 19 but before Season _.

This particular story took more time to complete than I planned, but I'm still happy with the end result. It actually came out better than I originally outlined.

For those of you who come across and read my story, I hope you enjoy: that's all I can ask for.

"Cadillac, Cadillac" was recorded and performed by Train on their seventh album Bulletproof Picasso and written by Pat Monahan, Al Anderson, and Butch Walker.

South Park, including its characters, episodes, and dialogue, is the property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.


"AAAAHHHH!"

A 15-year-old boy with a tuft of blonde hair wearing light blue pajamas jolted upright in his bed, drenched in sweat and panting heavily. He could feel his heart beating a million times a minute. Thankfully, it had only been a nightmare, but he could've sworn that everything in it had an element of reality to it.

Ugh, Reality.

He shuddered at the thought as tears formed in his eyes and fell in rivulets down his face, mixing with the sweat.

"Butters, go back to bed, or you'll be grounded, mister!" came the voice of his father, ill-tempered at being woken up so late at night.

"Y-yes, sir," Butters muttered in reply. He then sadly laid his head back down on his pillow and turned to face his window. Time passed agonizingly slowly before Butters gave up on sleeping and turned from the window to face the ceiling.

It was times like this when Butters wished he had more supportive and sympathetic parents. When he was younger, whenever he had a nightmare, he would remember how his mother would come in his room and sit down with him on his bed. Then she would envelop him in a hug and stroke his head while whispering comforting words in his ear. But all that stopped after he turned ten and Stephen demanded Linda to 'Stop coddling our son all the damn time!' She was against the idea, but his word was law in the Stotch household, so it was put into effect. Sometimes, on nights like this, Butters didn't know which was worse: his nightmares or the threat of being grounded by his father. Neither one seemed like the lesser of two evils.

But that's when Butters suddenly remembered that he had a third option: his boyfriend. He turned to his end table, grabbed his cell phone and sent a text. A few minutes went by before his phone vibrated with a response.

Hey, dude. What's the matter?

Butters sniffled, before typing out, I had a nightmare.

Are you okay?

Another sniffle, as he wiped the tears from his eyes. No. My nightmare actually involved you, too. I'm afraid and I feel like crying right now.

The response was almost immediate. Come over to my house. I'll be waiting at the front door.

Butters felt a brief smile grow on his face as he hopped off his bed and went over to his closet. After donning his turquoise jacket and putting on his socks and shoes, Butters opened his window and jumped out, landing softly in his snow-covered front yard. Normally, Butters wouldn't have dared to sneak out of his house in the middle of the night, but he was willing to throw caution to the wind in this scenario. His boyfriend was willing to go the extra mile for him, so Butters knew it was only fair that he do the same. After all, his love for his boyfriend was much stronger than his fear of being grounded.

As Butters made his way through South Park, he began to reflect on some the changes that had occurred not too long ago. Following the arrival of PC Principal, a wave of political correctness had swept through the town, resulting in the construction of first SoDoSoPa, then a Whole Foods Market, and finally, Shi Tpa Town. But alas, some of the gentrification did not last: SoDoSoPa was abandoned within a week, and the Whole Foods Market actually uprooted itself from its foundation and flew away not too long after. But that sort of thing was to be expected in the quiet mountain town; South Park always had a knack for attracting the abnormal.

Midway through his reminiscing, Butters finally reached his destination. He approached the front door and knocked. And true to his text, not even a minute passed before the door opened to reveal a Jewish boy wearing a green ushanka and dark blue pajamas stamped with designs of the comedic Canadian duo Terrance and Phillip.

"Hey, dude. Come on in." 15-year-old Kyle Broflovski stepped to the side and with a swift, sweeping motion of his right arm, Butters stepped inside the house. Once Kyle shut the door, both boys turned to face each other. Out of habit, Butters began grinding his knuckles together and redirected his gaze to the floor. Noticing his discomfort, Kyle placed his hands over Butters', separating them and then intertwining them with his own. Once more, Butters' blue eyes redirected their line of sight and met Kyle's green eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, Butters. I'm right here for you," Kyle told him with a smile. That warm Jewish smile of his was just enough to make Butters' bottom lip tremble and brought with it a fresh round of tears spilling from his eyes. Kyle then enveloped the blond boy in a hug and Butters buried his face in Kyle's left shoulder, staining his shirt with his tears, and reciprocated the hug, holding onto Kyle as if for dear life.


During South Park's period of gentrification, there came a pivotal moment in 10-year-old Butters Stotch's life that served as a sort of springboard to his relationship with Kyle Broflovski. This involved a Canadian girl named Charlotte, whose family fled Canada due to an outrageous candidate winning the presidential election. Both kids hit it off, but upon news of the Canadian president's death at the hands (or, in this case, the dick) of Mr. Garrison, the immigrants were more than thrilled to return home. This included Charlotte's family, but the kids promised to keep in contact with each other through FaceTime. Their correspondence went on for a few months until Charlotte ultimately dropped a bombshell on Butters on Christmas Day.

Butters had logged onto his computer and was about to click the FaceTime icon to call Charlotte, when he noticed that he had one unread email in his mailbox. Intrigued, Butters clicked on it and saw that it had been sent from Charlotte. This was what he read:

Dear Butters,

As much as I enjoyed our time together, I must move on. I thought I could be open to the idea of having a long-distance relationship with you, but I just couldn't do it. I'm sure someday you'll find somebody who will love you, FaceTime or no FaceTime.

Charlotte

Shocked at this, Butters attempted to FaceTime her but found that her number was no longer in service. When his friends heard about their breakup, they did their best to offer their condolences; Eric Cartman, not so much, but considering the kind of person he was, everyone knew this was to be expected. Even with all the pats on the back and the comforting words that came with them, Butters would simply reiterate his philosophy about beautiful sadness and would go along his merry way.

But Kyle knew Butters better than that. He was good at reading people, and there was something in Butters' responses that felt off to him. This reminded him of when his best friend Stan Marsh went through his first breakup with his girlfriend Wendy Testaburger. Stan had become depressed as a result, holing himself up in his room and isolating himself from his friends. Not even a trip to Raisins could help Stan get over Wendy. And upon finding out that she had soon started going out with Token Black, his depression went into overdrive and he began hanging around with the Goth kids. Nothing Kyle did or said could snap some sense into Stan, so he just gave up. But fearing that the same fate might befall Butters, despite his beautiful sadness mantra, Kyle decided to visit the Stotch residence to check up on Butters early one evening.

Upon entering Butters' room, Kyle was greeted with the sound of Train's Pat Monahan belting out a snippet of "Cadillac, Cadillac" from the blond boy's iPod.


Cadillac, do I lack what it takes?

Every time I love, seems my heart breaks

I'd rather sit online, stare in cyberspace

Than lose another part of me to another pretty face


Right what you do

To a man falling all over you

Right, right what you say

Making me dance alone that way

Now I do what I can

But when it comes to women, I don't understand

So I, I'm out of here

Call yourself a cab, watch my Cadillac disappear


Said blond boy was lying on his bed, pressed up against the headboard and looking at his iPhone; a melancholy expression had etched itself into his face as he stared intently at the screen. Well, at least he wasn't listening to Air Supply's "All Out of Love".

"Butters, you can't do this to yourself. You have to go live." Boy, talk about déjà vu, Kyle thought to himself.

"Sure I can," he replied morosely. "I'm living right now . . . through these photos." He turned his phone toward Kyle, who climbed onto the bed to get a closer look. Taking the phone, Kyle slid the screen from right to left, glancing through Butters' photo album. All of the pictures were basically slight variations of the same overall theme. Butters and Charlotte were both at their computers, holding up their iPhones at their screens and smiling at each other. They may as well have been mirrors instead of computers.

"Dude, not like this. This isn't healthy at all."

Butters' reaction to this was to snatch the phone out of Kyle's hand and look back at the screen. "Yeah, well, what do you know? You don't know what it's like to have your heart broken in a million pieces."

"You're wrong, Butters. I know exactly how you feel. Don't you remember Leslie?"

"She doesn't count, Kyle. Leslie was just an ad."

Kyle felt his temper begin to flare. "Like Charlotte was any different than Leslie!"

"At least Charlotte was real!" Butters stood up and faced Kyle, pointing at him angrily. "She had real emotions and feelings. Unlike Leslie, who just led you on and said what you wanted to hear!"

"Are you even listening to yourself? Your whole relationship with Charlotte was through the Internet! She may as well have been an ad herself!"

Butters gasped. "You take that back!"

"No, you need to hear this, Butters! You need to pull your head out of your ass! She didn't care about you!" But before he could continue any further, Butters let out an angry yell and lunged at Kyle. Both boys tumbled off the bed and hit the floor all the while fighting, grunting, and struggling.

"Butters, stop!" Kyle shouted, trying to restrain the other boy. Once more, Kyle was hit with nostalgia as he was reminded about his fight with Butters during one of Kenny McCormick's funerals. It hadn't ended well for either one of them.

"She did, too, care about me!" Butters attempted to slap Kyle in the face, but the latter deflected the shot. "She loved me and I loved her!" Tears began forming in Butters' eyes, and as a result, his vision became clouded, allowing Kyle the upper hand in their fight. Kyle eventually pinned Butters on his back, holding both his arms over his head and straddled his waist so that movement was limited.

"Butters, please listen!" Both boys began panting heavily as their eyes met. "Don't you think she would've let you know what was bothering her? Don't you think she would've taken your feelings into consideration before she sent you that email?" Kyle then got off of Butters and helped him up. The latter began to grind his knuckles together and ponder Kyle's questions.

"Well, I-I'm, I'm sure she had her reasons, but—"

"But she didn't tell you them, Butters," replied Kyle. "She didn't trust you enough to let you know. She took the coward's way out. That email was nothing but a glorified 'Fuck you', dude."

The more Butters thought about what Kyle said, the more it began to make sense to him. Deep down, part of him knew this relationship wasn't supposed to last; he had, after all, conspired with his friends to try and drive their Canadian classmates out of South Park Elementary. In all probability, she must've had her own reasons for letting the relationship go on for as long as it did. They had both seen each other as loose ends; she had just been quicker in getting hers tied.

As this realization dawned upon him, Butters felt his head droop downward and he began to cry. Out of reflex, he pressed his hands against his eyes, but it couldn't stop the tears from overflowing.

"Oh, Butters," lamented Kyle. He then pulled Butters into a hug, who wrapped his arms around the Jewish boy in reciprocation. "I'm sorry I was so harsh. But I only said that because I'm your friend and I care about you. And I'm sure Charlotte cared about you, too. Maybe it just wasn't in the way you were hoping for."

"Then why does it hurt so bad, Kyle?" Butters sniffled. "Why?"

"I wish I knew, dude," answered Kyle. He started rubbing his hands on Butters' back, in an effort to soothe and calm him down. "The best thing I can tell you, though, is to move on and learn from this experience. And don't feel sorry for yourself; what's done is done. But you have your whole life ahead of you. You'll have plenty of time to find that special someone."

Butters sniffled once more before finally letting go and rubbing his eyes. "Thank you, Kyle."

"You're welcome, Butters."

"And I'm sorry for taking my anger out on you. I know you were just trying to help."

"Don't worry about it. Say, how about I take you out to Bennigan's?"

Hearing his favorite restaurant made Butters' mood do a complete 180. "Bennigan's? Oh, boy, you mean it?"

"Sure, dude. It'll be my treat."

"Whoopee!" With his arms raised high, Butters began to run circles around Kyle. "At Bennigan's, I'm going to get the Ranch Hand Baby Back Ribs!" Kyle laughed warmly at the blond boy's enthusiasm.

Just as both boys arrived outside Bennigan's, Kyle pulled Butters aside and asked him to confirm if he was listening to "Cadillac, Cadillac" earlier.

"I was. W-what about it?"

"There was a lyric from that song that made me think of your breakup with Charlotte. I think it went something like, 'She wouldn't know a good thing like I said / If it hit her from behind upside the head.' Well, in my opinion, she didn't know a good thing like you, Butters. She was the one who missed out."

Flattered by Kyle's comment, Butters began to blush. "Aw, gee. I appreciate that, Kyle."

Kyle chuckled and then walked over to the door and held it open for Butters.

"Thank you," replied the blond boy. Whether it was for the comment or the door, Kyle wasn't sure. But nonetheless, he found himself smiling warmly at Butters and followed him into the restaurant.


When Kyle and Butters were 11 and testing out this new kind of relationship, they limited themselves to handholding and kissing. The former was done in support of Tweek and Craig, as they would tell their friends; the latter had started out as a few instances of playing Ookie Mouth. After all, if they were going to be swapping spit, what better way than through Ookie Mouth?


After they turned 12, they decided to come out to Stan and Kenny and swore them to absolute secrecy.

Kenny had an inkling of suspicion due to the excessive handholding. ("Dude, not even Craig and Tweek held hands as much as you two did. Thankfully for you guys, though, most of the kids and adults in this town are just stupid. But don't worry; your secret is safe with me.")

Stan had been a bit surprised by the revelation. "So . . . you swing for the same team?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. But I hope this doesn't change anything between us, dude."

"No, no, it's fine, dude. I don't care if you like guys. You just caught me off-guard, that's all. But as long as you're happy, then I'm happy for you, Kyle."

"I really appreciate that, Stan. And I know Butters does, as well."

"Dude, you know Kenny and I will always be there to support you two. No matter what."


About four months after Butters turned 13, the blond boy began to notice that he was having happy dreams and erections more frequently. His father was absolutely no help at all, telling Butters to keep his happy feelings to himself. So, in need of advice of what to do about these changes, Butters turned to Kyle. They were both hanging out in Kyle's room when this conversation took place.

"Wait a minute. You're telling me your father told you that when you get an erection, it means that it's pointing toward Jesus . . . and that Jesus is your friend?"

"Yep, that's what he said. And that sometimes my happy creamy feeling gets so full, it comes out at night."

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he had picked up from Stan, and shook his head. "Butters, that is not what getting an erection means."

"It doesn't?"

"Nooo. There's something wrong with your father, dude." Kyle then looked back up at his naïve boyfriend. "When I started having wet dreams, my dad told me that it had something to do with sexual stimulation and arousal."

"W-wet dreams?"

"That's an informal term for ejaculating while you're asleep."

"Oh." Butters ruminated on the explanation for a minute. "Ohhh. So my dad was lying to me?"

"Yes, dude. He was feigning ignorance. Whether you acknowledge it or he doesn't, he's adamant about keeping you in the dark about anything involving sex. I mean, haven't you ever heard of the birds and the bees?"

"Well, yeah. I remember we talked about it in class. But when I told my dad, he said to me that everybody knows that bird is the word."

Kyle groaned at Butters' explanation. "Jesus Christ. You've got a lot to learn, Butters."

And learn they did. Both boys spent the better part of that day browsing the Internet looking up wet dreams, sexual stimulation, and methods of arousal. It eventually culminated in Kyle giving Butters his first handjob. It was a little sloppy, considering that Kyle was using an article on the Internet as a guide, but Butters had enjoyed it nonetheless.


At 14, Kyle and Butters began experimenting more with each other. This was done wherever they could find some private time—be it at Kyle's house, Stark's Pond, or even the boy's bathroom and janitor's closet at school. At first, they practiced giving each other handjobs. Then, with the Internet's help, they started practicing giving each other blowjobs. It took some time—as well as a few memorable/sloppy moments—but with months of practice, the boys became more comfortable and confident in their abilities. But these weren't the only major events that occurred during the fourth year of their relationship.

Because this was also the year Kyle and Butters came out to their parents.

Sheila had been shocked by the revelation that her son was gay more so than Gerald: "WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?!"

But after the initial shock wore off, this brought about her recollection of the time Kyle had transformed into Kyley-B during the New Jersey invasion of South Park. It was at that point Sheila had put two and two together, but forgot about it as time went on. But she reassured Kyle that she would always love him, regardless of his sexual orientation.

With Butters' parents, though, it was the complete opposite. Stephen hadn't been receptive to the idea that his son was gay and was almost set to ground Butters until Linda stepped in and reminded Stephen about his bisexual tendencies. Stephen tried to brush off her accusations, but Linda was adamant about forcing Stephen to face his denial. It took a couple of hours on Linda's part, but Stephen eventually came around. And while he did enforce a few extra ground rules for Butters for when Kyle would visit, he decided not to ground him.

Later that evening, Stephen begrudgingly gave his wife a $20 bill.

"I told you so, Stephen," bragged Linda.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."


"So, do you want to tell me about your nightmare now?" Kyle asked Butters in a soothing tone. Both boys had relocated to Kyle's room and were currently sitting on Kyle's bed. The former had his arm draped over the latter's shoulder.

Once more, Butters began to grind his knuckles. "W-well, I dreamt I was being chased through the halls of school by Reality again. He had come back from the dead, and since I was the one responsible for his death, he wanted vengeance on me. And I remember running past our friends, like Stan and Kenny and Cartman and Wendy. But every time I stopped and asked for their help, they told me they didn't know what I was talking about and to get lost."

Kyle, unfortunately, knew all too well what Butters was talking about. He could remember those particular times where he partook in ridiculing Butters with his friends. Well, they all ripped on each other; that's what guys did. But Kyle knew he and his friends had sometimes taken it too far when picking on Butters.

"So I kept running through the halls, until I ended up in the kindergartners' classroom. There was nobody in the room and all the chairs and tables were overturned. And when I faced the door again, there was Reality with his purple attire and his top hat and his c-creepy curly mustache. Then he began to taunt me, but it wasn't in his voice." His voice began to waver as he spoke the last sentence.

"Whose was it?"

"It was yours, Kyle! And my mom's voice and dad's and Cartman's too!" Revealing this made another stream of tears cascade down Butters' face and shocked the Jewish teenager.

"What did we say to you?"

After rubbing his leaking eyes and nose, Butters picked up where he left off. "You all alternated in saying that no one could ever care about me and I was nothing but a worthless Melvin who didn't deserve to be loved."

"Are you serious?" Kyle asked in a concerned tone. Butters nodded his head and squeezed his eyes shut, spilling more tears.

"T-then Reality s-s-s-started to ad-advance toward me and I c-c-c-couldn't move because with every step he took, he began to s-shrink and transform. A-and then by the time he approached me, he had turned into y-you. Then you gr-grabbed my shirt and told me we were through before you s-s-shoved me out the window." It was at that point that Butters buried his face in his hands and dissolved into another round of sobs.

"Shh, shh. Take a deep breath, dude." Kyle then pulled Butters into another hug, muffling his crying. "Just calm down, okay? I'm right here."

Once Kyle was sure his boyfriend had cried himself out, he pulled Butters off of him and looked him in his eyes. "Butters, I want you to listen to me. Are you listening?"

Butters nodded in reply.

Kyle took Butters' hands into his own. "You are not a Melvin, dude. I know that in the past, I was an asshole to you. And I'm sorry for making you feel that way. But the real Reality is not the one in your dream, Butters. It's the five years we've spent together and how they've helped me to see the wonderful, sweet, and caring boy that I fell in love with. And I couldn't be more proud to call you my boyfriend."

A smile began to form on Butters' face as he sniffled again. "You really mean that, Kyle?"

"Absolutely, dude. And don't let anyone ever tell you that you're worthless. We all care about you. Well, maybe not Cartman, but he doesn't count. That fatass can go fuck himself."


Unbeknownst to them, behind the closed bathroom door of the Cartman household, said fatass was sitting on the toilet wearing nothing but his briefs, which were currently hanging around his ankles. His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration as he jacked himself off, muttering to himself, "That's it, Cupid Me. That's it, that's it. Harder, Cupid Me! Oh, my God! Harder!"


"You make me feel good all over, Butters," Kyle continued. "And I want to make you feel good, too."

Kyle then leaned forward and kissed Butters on the lips. Butters accepted the kiss lovingly and wrapped his arms around Kyle's neck, while Kyle placed his hands on Butters' waist. After a few minutes, Kyle then pulled Butters onto his lap and intensified the kiss, turning it into an intense game of tonsil hockey. Not too long after this, he lowered Butters onto his back and climbed on top of him, staring down at him. Noticing his boyfriend's bloodshot eyes, Kyle tenderly kissed the left one and then the right before making his way downward.

Butters began to lightly moan as Kyle's lips left a trail of kisses down his face and came to rest in the crook of his neck. Butters felt the lower half of his pajamas start to bulge and harden. Noticing the prodding against him, Kyle turned his head and looked at Butters' pitched tent. He then redirected his gaze at Butters and gave him another kiss.

"You wanna play Lord of the Rings?" Kyle asked seductively.

"Y-y-yes, please," came Butters' eager response.

In the course of one of their bouts of Internet browsing when they were 14, Kyle and Butters happened to stumble across an upload of Back Door Sluts 9. For Butters, this brought back a memory of him mistaking the porno for Lord of the Rings and attempting to dry-hump Kyle. This made Kyle laugh out loud as he, too, recalled the events of that night. And just like the handjob scenario, but in reverse this time, Butters attempted to dry-hump Kyle once more. Only this time, Kyle reciprocated the action. Ever since then, the phrase "Lord of the Rings" became their code word for outercourse.

With his own dick having become hard during their heavy make-out session, Kyle began to grind it against Butters' left leg. The friction Kyle generated elicited another ecstatic moan from Butters, causing his eyes to roll upward.

"K-kyyyyle . . ." moaned the blond boy. Lost in the moment, Butters' arms wormed themselves around Kyle as he began to kiss his boyfriend's forehead.

In between his grunting and panting, Kyle was heard to moan back, "Butterrrrrrsss . . ."

Their grinding, panting and kissing continued on before Kyle finally came with a satisfying grunt.

"Do you need to take a breather?" Butters asked.

"No, I'm fine, dude. I told I was going to make you feel good. And I intend to deliver on that." Kyle then snaked his left hand into Butters' pajama pants and began to rub his hand against Butters' groin.

The sudden warmth of Kyle's palm sent shivers through Butters' body, causing his eyelids to flutter and his erratic breathing to resume once more.

"You like that, don't you, Butters?"

"Cartman . . . was . . . lying . . . when he . . . said . . . t-that . . . Jews . . . have n-n-no . . . rhythm," Butters managed to spit out pleasurably.

"That he was. And unlike you, he will never have the pleasure of seeing this side of me."

As Kyle increased his rhythm, so did the friction between Butters' groin and his underwear. Butters cried out in ecstasy as his dick got harder and harder with each circular motion of Kyle's hand. When Kyle felt Butters' precum touch his hand, he abruptly stopped, which elicited a displeased whimper from the blond boy.

"Aww, why'd you stop?"

"Because I'm only just getting started," Kyle answered in a sultry tone. He then wriggled himself out of Butters' arms and repositioned himself in between his boyfriend's legs.

Kyle hooked his thumbs into Butters' pajama pants and underwear and in one swift motion, pulled them both down, exposing the blond boy's erect member. Kyle marveled at the sight below him. 2.4 inches, my ass, Kyle thought as he gripped Butters' hips. No wonder Cartman sucks at math. And speaking of sucking . . .

Imitating a drinking bird, Kyle dipped his head downward, taking Butters' dick into his mouth and began to suck.

The inside of Kyle's mouth had always been warmer than the palms of his hands, as Butters came to realize in the early years of their relationship. But even with previous experience, the feeling always seemed to catch Butters off-guard.

"H-holy hamburgers!" the blond boy exclaimed quietly. His hands balled up into fists, each one gripping a part of Kyle's sheets. "That feels s-so g-g-good, Kyle." Kyle responded by taking Butters in deeper. A sudden swipe of Kyle's tongue made Butters slightly buck his hips upward and emit a pleasured groan.

While his mouth was occupied, Kyle moved his hands from Butters' hips and snaked them underneath his shirt. He guided his hands upward, rubbing his palms against his boyfriend's stomach and chest. Eventually, Kyle's hands came to rest upon Butters' nipples. With his thumbs and index fingers, Kyle began to sensually twist them. Once more, another prolonged moan escaped Butters' lips.

"I c-can't hold out much l-longer, Ky-kyyy-yle," cried Butters. Out of reflex, Butters' hands shot downward and latched onto the ear flaps of Kyle's ushanka, pulling them toward him. His panting began to speed up and became more intermittent until . . .

"Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . . ohh . . . ohh . . . ohhhhhhhh!"

Butters finally shot his load into Kyle's mouth, who managed to swallow most of it. Even though this wasn't his first time consuming Butters' creamy goo, Kyle once more took note of its grape-y bleach-y flavor.

After wiping his mouth of any excess semen with the back of his hand, Kyle redressed Butters and then lay next to him. He pulled his boyfriend into a hug, who gladly and lovingly reciprocated it.

"Did you enjoy that, dude?" asked Kyle.

"Well, by golly, that sure was a-amazing, Kyle," came Butters' pleased response. "That was better than every game of Ookie Mouth we've ever played."

"Mm-hmm. But do you believe me when I tell you that I care about you?"

"I do. You make me feel loved." Butters followed this up with a yawn.

"That's because I love you, Butters. You know I'll be there for you whenever you need me."

"I appreciate that, Kyle. More than you'll ever know. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Both boys exchanged another kiss just before Butters let out another yawn.

"Are you tired, Butters?" the Jewish boy asked. Obvious question, it was, but still . . .

"Yes. But I really don't wanna go back home."

"You don't have to, dude. You can sleep here with me."

"Really? You mean it?"

"Of course I do. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?" Both boys then scooted under the covers and Butters laid his head down on Kyle's chest. The sound of Kyle's heartbeat was very soothing to the blond boy. Once more, Kyle enveloped him in a hug.

"Thank you again for everything, Kyle," Butters said gratefully. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Butters. Sleep tight, okay?"

"Mmm." Butters nodded his head and closed his eyes. Just before he finally fell asleep, the final thought to cross his mind that night was Pat Monahan singing the last lines of "Cadillac, Cadillac".


Hey baby

I'll be alright now, now baby

Hey baby

I'll be alright now, now baby


For those of you who made it this far, thank you for your support, wherever you are.

If you've enjoyed the tale I've outlined, please leave a review if you are so inclined.

See you all next time!