The lights were blinding to Kyle. The bright neon flashing flares were damaging to his eyesight, which was possibly the shittiest thing about him. He stumbled through the crowd of his friends, who were all drunk and or grinding on one another, and that's when he saw him.

Eric Cartman stood in front of him, his tie sloppily stretched down his neck, his hair slicked to the side with some cheap hair gel, and but the lasers seemed to be hurting his eyes also, as he was shielding his as well.

Kyle often forgot that Cartman was just like him in many ways. They were both very competitive, they botho had poor eyesight (until Cartman got surgery to fix his) and - hell, they had the same blood type, which was pretty rare.

Cartman may have been a fat asshole who would always be a pain in Kyle's ass, but hey, one night d change anything, right?

Kyle bravely strode over to Cartman, who was slouched over against the wall, scrolling through one of many of his social media profiles, and tried to strike up a conversation with a simple, "What's up?"

"The sky."

Dammit. Kyle fell for that shit all the time. He'd have to make some sort of comeback. "What's even farther than that?"

"The Stratosphere."

Fuck, did the spiked punch really make him ten times smarter than regular Cartman? Sighing, Kyle tried to remember the little song they'd done for the different layers. Finally, it sprung into his mind - Mesosphere!

"Even farther?"

"Mesosphere."

He then hummed the tone of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (their eighth grade science teacher had prepared him for this) and soon got to the next layer - Thermosphere. No one remembered this far out, did they?

"Even farther?"

"Thermosphere, duh."

God dammit, Kyle thought. But, Cartman was kind of a genius sometimes, and that meant they were even more interconnected. How were they so alike?

But, somehow, they'd both ended up standing on the wall, looking at the swarm of couples grinding on one another, and sadly, it included Stan and Wendy. Looking at them made it even worse, because it just brought on even more self-pity.

"C'mon, we're not going to stay in here, I can't breathe." Kyle dragged Cartman out of the ballroom, finding an empty hallway to sit in. They sat together in the empty hallway, just staring at their black dress shoes and the sparkling granite floor.

"Hey, uh, Kyle?" Cartman's blue eyes lifted and stared into Kyle's eyes. He leaned in a bit, but he stopped about midway. He waited for a response, and Kyle responded by leaning in, but not all of the way.

"Do it," Kyle whispered. Cartman slowly leaned, and then met Kyle's lips, and his hand found Kyle's cheek. Their lips melted together almost, and they stopped every few seconds for a breath of air.

Cartman pulled away, but Kyle could understand. They didn't want to get too serious in one night, right? Or was that just a stupid rule?

"So, what happened with Bebe?"

"Ugh, don't even get me started. What happened with Butters and Kenny?"

"They, uh, slipped away. They're probably fucking in a bathroom stall right now."

"Probably. I'm just bummed that I'll never dance with anyone at my prom." Kyle sighed.

"Oh, c'mon, you should dance with me." Cartman chuckled.

"I thought you said jews have no rhythm?"

"I'll help you keep time."

Thankfully, the first slow song of the night came on. It might've been the cheesy Six Months by Hey Monday; but at least it was slow.

At first, they kept their distance, trying not to make it awkward for either of them. But then, Kyle rested his head on Cartman's chest, and the world for him somehow shifted.

"Everything you say, every time we kiss I can't think straight,"

"Give me a lesson on how to steal a heart, steal a heart, as fast as you stole mine,"

"I can't think of anybody else who I hate to miss as much as I hate missing you."

These words now floated around Kyle as he laid in bed that night. He'd thought about everything that had happened with him and Cartman, and-honestly-he was so happy that it had happened. He'd never felt more in love with someone than he had right now. Even though his eyes still kind of stung and he smelled like Cartman's cologne-which he'd have to explain to his mother in the morning- he'd had a good prom night with someone he'd liked since the fourth grade. He was happy.