Fluffiest Kyman fic you'll ever read. I am so seriously.

So I woke up this morning in terrible agony and asked myself what I would like to write the most right now. I've written several oneshots like this, with not really any point to them and pretty much waaay OOC, but it's something that I enjoy, and I've been having trouble writing lately. So I guess this is just what I'm doing right now. I'd still like comments on my more casual writing.

Kyle woke up to the sound of a loud, buzzing alarm clock, and could only stare at it angrily with half-lidded eyes. He had no idea where the snooze button was on the thing; it didn't belong to him. He hoisted himself out of the covers slightly, so his upper half was exposed, and picked it up in his hands, turning it over and squinting to find buttons or directions or—

"Ugh, Christ. Let me." Cartman held out a thick hand, annoyed. He remained lying on his half of the bed, propping himself up lazily by his other elbow and leaning his cheek in his palm. Kyle handed over the clock obediently.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "S'nothing like the one at my house." Cartman only grunted in response, and gave the clock a swift pull. Suddenly, the buzzing stopped, and Cartman reeled in the unplugged cord to toss the entire device onto the ground carelessly. Kyle blinked and stared at the clock, slightly surprised by Cartman's unorthodox fix, but then he felt himself being dragged back down into bed by a heavy arm. He smiled lightly when he felt Cartman speak into his hair, nuzzling it with his nose.

"Too early. Back to sleep, Jew." The brunette sighed contentedly, and ran a hand along Kyle's waistband; both of them were still only in their boxers. While he shivered underneath his new-found boyfriend's touch, Kyle did have things to do, namely tame his mother's inevitable fury. Sleeping over Cartman's house hadn't been in the plan, and she hadn't been notified about the change. He wouldn't be surprised if the Broflovski residence had already gone up in flames from her tremendous rage.

Kyle couldn't really be blamed, honestly. When Cartman had showed up at his house in his truck last night, and just parked outside their driveway… He had kept the lights on in the car so, from his bedroom window, Kyle could see him light a cigarette and rest his head on the steering wheel. So he had to grab his coat and walk out there, and tap on the car window, so that Cartman jumped. He asked, what's up, and Cartman replied, nothing, as if he wasn't at his worst enemy's house at three in the morning. Kyle got into the passenger seat. They looked at each other. Cartman said, I'm sorry for being such an ass. Kyle said, I'm sorry for being such a bitch, right when we were starting to get along, too. Yeah, Cartman said, right when we started hanging out together. Alone together.

They started touching each other's faces, although Kyle couldn't remember exactly when that happened. Cartman started it, though, after he'd thrown his cigarette out the window. And then, back to Cartman's house. Right. Sounds good. Great. And then, Cartman's bed. Sounds amazing.

Kyle called him Eric for the first time last night.

"Cartman," he whispered. 'Eric' couldn't just be flung around, even now. It was like a very bad swear word, except reserved for special occasions. "I do need to get ready." The redhead spun around in bed to face his boyfriend. "Can I use your toothbrush?"

Cartman made a disgruntled noise and pinched Kyle on the thigh to express his disapproval. "Fine. It's the green one." Then Cartman pushed him off the bed so Kyle fell onto his ass.

"Fuck, fat ass!" Kyle seethed, but then smirked as he got up and rubbed his butt. "Thought you'd want my ass in top condition, from now on."

Cartman peeked over the side of the bed, grinning, and trailed his forefinger tauntingly along the edge of the mattress. "You've got so many bruises already, I figured one more wouldn't hurt." He cocked his head to the side, getting a better view of the marks he had left on Kyle's neck and collarbone. He knew there were a few more scattered across the Jew's body, in certain other places. "You gonna cover those motherfuckers up with a scarf or what?"

Kyle stretched and arched his back, making sure Cartman got a good look at his figure. He shrugged as he started to walk away, and raised his voice to make sure Cartman could still hear him.

"Probably not," he said as he reached the nearby bathroom. "Should I?"

Cartman groaned as he got out of bed to follow his Jew. Taking his eyes off of Kyle now seemed like it should be fine, now that they were together. He still didn't want to.

"I don't know," the brunette yawned. "People'll know something's up. The marks'll still be there on Monday. Tuesday, too." He trudged to the bathroom doorway, and leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms. He let his eyes fall on Kyle's body again, tallying all the bruises in his head. But when he reached over to pull down the waistband of his Jew's boxers, Kyle slapped his hand away, still holding the toothbrush.

"Nobody's gonna see those either way, dumbass," he huffed.

"They better not." Cartman shifted back to his spot on the door frame.

Kyle glanced up at his boyfriend and smiled, spitting into the sink. Cartman was possessive, and if Kyle was planning on being in a relationship with him, he'd be an idiot to overlook it. As long as he was treated better than that alarm clock— though Cartman had pushed Kyle to the floor.

The brunette walked past him and opened the bathroom window, so that the room started smelling like the early morning. He took a seat on the toilet lid, making sure he could get a good look at Kyle. He had never seen Kyle the moment after he woke up, when his hair flew out at odd angles, or seen him go about his morning routine. Not many people had, besides his family, and knowing he was part of this exclusive Kyle club made him even happier. Not that he wasn't already thrilled with his good luck; what else could it be called? People like him and Kyle getting together was a once in a millennium thing.

As he watched his Jew splash water over his pale face, and the red hair closest to his forehead dampened, he thought that it was too bad Kyle had only started to like him this year. Cartman would like to tell him that last night wasn't the first time he'd kept his car running outside Kyle's house at an ungodly hour. He even fell asleep there once. It didn't seem that strange to him, honestly, because he had been climbing into Kyle's room since they were in elementary school. But when they got older, and Cartman started wanting to touch him with something other than a knife or a pitchfork, the emotional distance Cartman felt between them manifested itself physically. He hadn't broken into Kyle's house since the beginning of ninth grade.

Cartman wasn't stupid, even if he was an ass. He wasn't about to scare Kyle away as soon as he got him. They had feelings for each other, and that was all Kyle needed to know right now. What he wanted the most was for Kyle to say 'I love you' first.

The brunette stood up and walked over to his redhead, who was rubbing his face dry with a towel. Without another word, he slipped his arms around the slender waist and rested his chin on the Jew's shoulder. Kyle jumped shortly before rolling his eyes and smiling. Cartman didn't need to see his face to know he was doing it.

"Hey, Jew," he purred.

Kyle leaned his head over against Cartman's. "Hey."

"Ich liebe dich."

Kyle had heard Cartman speak German before, but Cartman knew he'd never heard him say that.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the redhead laughed, and fell back against his boyfriend.

"It means 'all Jews must die'."

"Oh, please. I've heard you say 'Jew' in German enough times to know you didn't say it there."

Cartman paused.

"It means 'you're sexy'." He twisted his neck to kiss Kyle on the temple. Then he reached down and squeezed his ass, to make sure Kyle believed him. His Jew only scoffed and stomped on his toes, trying to wriggle out of Cartman's grasp. The brunette laughed, letting go and stepping out of the bathroom. "Wanna go get breakfast?"

Kyle stepped back from the sink hesitantly, chewing the inside of his cheek. "I should probably get home. My mom'll flip her shit, if I get home any later." Apprehension was still automatic when dealing with Cartman, unfortunately. Kyle expected a boom-and-bust cycle of passion and confusion during the beginning of their relationship, but he prayed to Moses that Cartman would be able to deal with it. His boyfriend wasn't a naturally patient person, and Kyle needed him to be for this to work. He just hoped Cartman liked him enough to be able to wait.

"Aw, come on. I have a Dunkin' Donuts gift card."

Luckily, Kyle wasn't impervious to coaxing. He drummed his fingers on the bathroom counter and flicked off the light switch above the mirror. "Okay. Sure, I guess."

Cartman's face lit up immediately, as he went back into his room to find their clothes.

"You can borrow a pair of my sweats if you don't want to put yours back on. A t-shirt, too."

Kyle walked back down the hall and poked a bruise on his chest absentmindedly. "No, it's fine. I'll wear my own shit." When he entered the bedroom, he sat down on the edge of Cartman's bed again and smoothed the sheets. "It's Kenny's shift at the Dunkin' Donuts this morning. He was complaining about it in school yesterday. You probably knew that."

Cartman continued pulling on a pair of pants as he spoke. Yeah, he knew that. "Look, Kyle, I don't know if you were just planning to do this without telling people, but I, uh, sorta want people to know." It would make it official. "So, yeah. We're going to Dunkin' Donuts and I'm telling Kenny. Don't argue."

"It's fine. I don't really mind or anything." Kyle tapped his feet on the carpet thoughtfully. "People should be fine with it. I think we're pretty cool together."

Cartman tugged a t-shirt over his head and turned his neck to smile at the wall. Genuinely smiling where Kyle could see was something he needed to get used to.

"We are pretty cool together."

"Yeah?"

They glanced at each other briefly, and turned back as soon as their eyes caught. Cartman fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt. Kyle traced a stripe on the bedsheets. They both grinned.

"Yeah."

Please review if you would like to. I appreciate comments in order to improve my writing. Thanks.