Poison Us

Scott Tenorman thought his little brother was a twerp. Sure, Eric Cartman had his cute moments, if one might even dare refer to them as such, but even those fleeting seconds when an endearing expression would overtake his face could not negate the fact that he was, altogether, an annoying dirt bag. Scott, of course, took full advantage of his half sibling's years of puberty, making fun of Eric's awkward transition at every chance he could. Living together with someone as awful in every way as Eric was a nightmare, but Scott would be damned if he couldn't have a little fun.

...Besides, at least Eric made things interesting.

Scott tapped his fingers on his desk as songs from the album OK Computer blasted through his headphones, ensuring deafness in his elderly years. He stared blankly at the Radiohead concert that would be going on in Minnesota later that year. He detested living in a backwater town like South Park, considering that the chances of his favorite band visiting him were just about as high as his mom and dad spontaneously dying (even though he no longer was in association with his biological mother).

On the topic of mothers, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted up into his room, no doubt the result of Liane smothering her children. Scott swept a hand over his hair, successfully knocking the beats off of his head and down onto his shoulders. He could always go for Liane's baking. Scott made his way downstairs in the direction of the pleasant aroma in hopes that Eric had not gotten there before him; a pointless thing to wish for, he knew, but a boy could dream. His dream, though, was shattered the moment he arrived onto the first floor and heard the sounds of strangled gobbling.

"Getting plump for Thanksgiving already?" Scott leered as he leaned against the doorway with crossed arms and examined Eric, stuffing his face with snickerdoodles... His insult was heightened by the fact that it was only July.

Eric swerved over to glare at him, swallowing thickly. "I'll have you know, Scott, that I'm just balancing out my muscle mass. Because people who are buff, like me, actually need to do that. Not that you would know, of course."

"Oh really?" Scott rolled his eyes, running a tongue over his teeth that had straightened out thanks to extensive braces. "Then you better start doing some push ups, fattie, because you have a lot to balance out." Not that Scott personally minded all that extra weight on his little brother, but it couldn't hurt for him to start exercising.

"I'll beat the shit out of you," Eric retorted, pointing in Scott's direction with a half eaten cookie in what may have been an attempt to be menacing… If Scott squinted, that was.

"Where's your mom?" Scott questioned as he pushed himself back onto his feet and gazed around the room, not finding the woman in question.

Eric gave him a curious expression. "She's been at work for two hours already, you ginger pussy. Why the fuck would she still be here?"

Scott's pale eyes finally landed on his brother's face, a tinge of astonishment and doubt leaking into the twin blues. "Then who made these cookies, pimple shit?"

Eric dunked the half consumed treat into a glass of milk before taking a bite. He chewed slowly, until eventually, decided to respond, mouth still full. "I did."

He scoffed, taking a seat across from Eric. "Wow, so you do have the ability to make your own poison."

"Fuck off." Eric remarked as he reached for another cookie, his face contorting into something sour yet appealing.

Just before he could grab it, Scott snatched it out of his hand, bringing it up to his face to examine. Eric had been notorious for putting things into his food before (varying from dead bugs to sharp objects), so he generally found it safest to eat whatever Eric had been planning to devour. In any case, he was truly interested. He'd never heard of Eric having baked in the past, so the concept intrigued him to no end; could it be that his cute, closeted, and ironically bigoted brother actually had a skill?

"You can't have any, you fucking piece of shit!" Eric's voice shook with anger as he leaned across the table to retrieve the sweet.

But alas for Eric, it was too late; the baked good had already made it's way into Scott's mouth, and he chewed thoughtfully, taking his time to take note of the texture and taste. Eric gaped at him, essentially freezing as he scrutinized Scott's face. A moment of silence passed after Scott had already swallowed, and no sound came, nor did any particular reaction come from the unprecedented taste tester. Eric began to fidget, just as Scott had planned, and he forced away the smile that threatened to engulf his face at how Eric bordered on dainty in that moment.

"Well?" He questioned petulantly, eyebrows furrowing.

Truthfully, it had been delicious. Scott hadn't known that Eric was capable of such a feat, but he supposed he'd inherited it from having been around his mother for so long. Scott contemplated telling Eric that it was scrumptious, before deciding not to inflate his ego, and instead shook his head with a sigh.

"Yeah," he drawled. "I don't think you should bake anymore."

Eric gawked. It was almost priceless, but Scott felt a hint of guilt as he watched the expression of crushed desire flit over Eric's reddened face. Scott's eyes dropped to Eric's ajar mouth, and he wanted to lick the stray crumbs away from his cheeks... He refrained, as usual.

"F-fucking fine, Scott! You're a dick anyway! You don't have to eat my cookies!" He attempted to recover from the low blow, dragging the plate closer to himself.

A playful spark twinkled in Scott's eye and he quickly jerked it back. "No way. You'll get sick if you eat these… Anyone would." He forced himself to look serious as he continued. "We don't need you clogging up the toilet again."

Eric's face filled with color at this comment, and he became livid. "You ginger asshole, I'll kick you in the nuts!" Suddenly, Eric's foot swung upwards from beneath the table.

In that moment, a few things happened. First, Eric realized his leg wasn't as long as he'd first imagined. Second, his foot came just short of kicking and ended up brushing against Scott's crotch. Third, Scott moaned.

Silence ensued.

Eric's foot remained between Scott's legs, frozen, as a look of puzzlement overtook his face. Scott stared at him blankly, mind filling with ways that he could possibly remedy the situation. All of which were fuzzy and incomprehensible, of course, by the pressure on his dick.

A clearing of one's throat shattered the heavy lack of dialogue that had pervaded their meeting. "I always knew you were a fag, but seriously?" Amusement was the key to Eric's tone when he finally spoke up, a sly smile beginning to twitch across his face.

Scott continued to stare, silently, willing himself to do something and yet feeling incapable. He gasped, however, white-knuckling the table as Eric's foot began to move up and down. A soft whine escaped the back of his throat, and he unwittingly gazed at Eric in shock. Could it be that the forbidden boy of his dreams was massaging his cock? Or was this just some perverse dream?

"That's fucking gay as fuck," Eric whispered hoarsely, arousal in his voice.

Scott watched as Eric attempted to be subtle, his own hand coming down to pet himself through his pants. Scott groaned, feeling the build up of tension overwhelm him, and he launched forward, grabbing Eric by the collar and bringing him into a passionate kiss. Their lips molded, tongues instantly coming together as soft groans leaked from the spaces inbetween, belonging to both. His hands clutched Eric's clothed shoulders, bringing him as close as he could with the barrier between them, and Eric revelled in this, coming as close as their bodies would allow in return. Were it that Scott thought this lust was one-sided, he was now officially convinced that it was not. Their embrace was short lived, but far from meaningless.

Scott pulled away with a smirk, knowing he the tables had turned. He pushed Eric back into the seat before coming to a stand and trailing across the room, and he grabbed the apron hanging beside the oven. Tossing it over to his claimed partner, Scott licked his lips in the process, desire coursing through his veins.

"Take off everything else, piggy." Came his command.

Eric grinned in return and did as told, stripping down his clothes before slipping the apron over his thick body. His older brother could only admire the view in fascination, becoming increasingly turned on throughout. Pulling on himself gently through the fabric of his pants, Scott thought himself to be the luckiest man on the planet… Because honestly, who else got a private show from Eric Cartman? When ready, Eric sauntered over to him and trailed a finger down Scott's chest, face taking on that of a porn star. Thank God for Eric's acting skills.

"You wanna fuck me on the table?" Eric questioned, breath hot on his older brother's cheek as he began to toy with Scott's dick through his cargo pants.

Scott grunted and spun Eric to face the other way, pushing the cookies to the side as he bent Eric over the wooden structure. "I thought you'd never ask," he breathed in response, before he trailed down and pushed his tongue into the place Eric last expected.

"Oh fuck!" Eric cried out as he pushed himself back against Scott's mouth, keening in the process.

Scott pulled away, standing to grind his clothed erection against the slightly stretched hole he'd just played with. "You like that?" He inquired, bringing down a hand to slap the large backside pressed against his hip.

"Yeah," Eric moaned. "I fucking love it!"

"Good…" Scott murmured. "Good piggy."

"I need you…" Eric mumbled against the wood, and it pulled at Scott's heart when it occurred to him that this claim was, in fact, genuine.

Looking around rather frantically, Scott grimaced, before placing another slap to Eric's ass. "Don't move, you got it?" He growled, before bounding up the stairs to grab a bottle of lube from his bedroom.

Scott generally stayed away from sex, his lust for his own brother being overpowering in itself, but that didn't mean lube wasn't helpful for his own personal pleasure. He thanked himself silently that he'd not used too much the night before, quickly running back to where his partner was patiently waiting. A toothy grin spread across his freckled visage when Scott saw that Eric was laying as he'd been left, derriere pointed in the air and spread across the table.

"Mmm… I think you should get a reward for being such a good piggy, huh?" Scott asked as his fingers danced along Eric's reddening rump.

Eric's breath picked up and he nodded frantically, wiggling himself further towards the other boy. Scott licked his teeth, still tasting cookie residue, and he smiled lightly. "But first… I want you to beg me."

Eric hesitated at this, before he moaned out a quiet, "Please, Scott."

Scott pushed one lubricated finger inside of him, preparing him gingerly. "No no, say it like you mean it. Please what?"

Eric clenched around him. "Please, fuck me!"

Another finger. "How do you want it?"

"I want it hard, Scott! Fucking… Do it, please!" He practically sobbed, pushing himself back and forth against the fingers penetrating him.

"You want me?" Scott's voice strained as he added a third finger.

"Yes! God dammit, yes! I fucking want you to screw me senseless!" Eric cried.

Scott nipped at his neck. "That's my piggy," he lingered, making positive that Eric was fully prepared, before he began to push his own arousal inside.

The air was thick with warm breath as Scott became fully engulfed, and he found himself never wanting to leave. On their own accord, his hips began to move back and forth, grabbing two handfuls of Eric's enormous ass to keep a good grip. Eric responded with soft moans here and there, hands splayed out in front of him as his eyes rolled back. The air around them was drab, senseless, and warm; nothing more could have been done to wane the amount of frustration that seeped from every breath, anger and confusion and coital desire pulsating in their lungs. Full minutes passed of weeping energy that thickly spread itself over their nude bodies as they crushed against each other with sound effects only capable of being labeled as one thing.

Scott may have been displeased at the fact that he honestly was inexperienced, particularly in sex involving other males, and was probably providing a minimum amount of pleasure to his partner, were it not that he was beyond any cognitive thought aside from how great it felt to finally be inside the one he'd lusted after for so long. Despite this, he wasn't the only one to enjoy himself, even after a great deal of time had already passed. A sharp thrust in one area elicited a jolt from Eric, surprising them both.

"Yes…" He ground out. "Right there, Scott!"

In return, Scott began to thrust even harder, pushing himself back and forth against the supposed area that was bringing Eric so much pleasure. Eric's moans grew louder and he teared up, fumbling along the table helplessly for something to hold. Scott took pity and leaned forward, taking one of his hands, which Eric latched onto gratefully as he yelped over and over.

"I lied about the cookies," Scott began to ramble into Eric's ear. "They were way better than what I thought you could do… Everything about you tastes good… Everything about you is…" He bit his lip in reluctance. "Better than everything…"

His words were jumbled as he slipped back into the wavery voice he'd so strived to have left behind, and perhaps what he was saying made no sense, but apparently Eric grasped the general idea, as he turned to sloppily kiss all over Scott's dotted cheeks. Scott's eyes slipped shut and he kissed back, a separate excitement showering him as he began to realize how this was more than just sex.

One hand squeezing Eric's hand, the other his plump cheek below, Scott began to thrust with more fervor at his most recent epiphany, feeling a need he'd never before experienced. It must have been mutual, as Eric's eyes lined with tears and he pressed his sweating forehead to Scott's.

Their gasping, trembling mouths met once more, this time with a sensual aspect prevailing as the two pairs of lips fumbled feverishly against each other and yet with an immeasurable amount of sincerity that could be matched by no other.

The epitome of pleasure washed over the two of them, successfully obliterating the confusion that had been running amok throughout their systems for years in the past. When they finally reached the valley of logical thought, Scott's limp arousal slipped from Eric, and they both sighed in absolute relief.

"You are such a fag." Eric muttered, shuddering as he attempted to scooch backwards and land onto his feet. The process itself was difficult, especially considering the soreness of his rump, but he managed, leaning onto Scott when the task was complete.

Scott hummed and rested his chin on Eric's head. "You better clean this up before Liane and dad get home." He murmured.

Eric turned around, face doubtlessly angered, though only managed to bury into Scott's chest. "No way asshole, I have to go lay down. I feel sick… Thanks to you."

He chuckled. "Yeah, okay. Go take a shower, you little bitch." He responded, slapping Eric's ass and shooing him along.

Eric waddled forwards, only taking a few steps, before he paused. His body shrunk in on itself, a trembling mess, and he finally turned to peck Scott on the lips. "You need a shower too. You smell like crap."

Scott smiled, an eyebrow lifting at the insinuation. "You twerp," he remarked.

In truth, he wouldn't have in any other way.