Warning: contains yaoi, spanking, whipping, and relatively rough sex. If this doesn't float your boat then you best head back to port quick, a kyman smutstorm is looming upon the horizon. Hear the sound of the yaoi sirens!

If you want something a little more vanilla/fluff check out 'Mission Accomplished' instead; same citrusy goodness with less of a sting.

Enjoy!

It was silent and the quaint room was shrouded in a thick darkness, broken only by the harsh glare of the digital alarm clock – flashing numbers slicing through the black, assaulting the weary eyelids of Kyle Broflovski.

1:00AM; the lights persist. 1:00 AM, 1:00AM, 1:00AM.

An old Japanese superstition was that if you were unable to sleep, you were awake in someone else's dreams. Unless someone constantly dreams of Kyle, than he's not too convinced by the theory. Some however say insomnia is a sign of madness, and in light of recent events Kyle feels obliged to agree. He needs to clear his head, the bustling thoughts always keeping his mind occupied into the early hours, stealing precious hours of rest.

If I'm already mad, he muses, I might as well indulge in the insanity.

Perhaps he owes it to himself, to do this. The temptation tugs at him relentlessly, until he gives in with ease. He needs this; the escapism, the filth, the pleasure and pain of it all. The release. The depravity.

After all, in the week since their last session, his frustration had only increased. If he was to have any chance sleeping this week, than this was probably a necessity, right? Most likely. Mental conflict resolved, he turns to face the clock once more.

1:01AM

Silently, he slides from under his covers. Taking a moment to consider his choice of attire, he runs his nicotine stained fingers through his vibrant auburn curls in frustration. He eventually grabs a pair of jeans and a green shirt from his closet, deciding that dressing nicely was pointless as the clothes would soon be crumpled across the floor anyway. He smirks at the thought, the implications of the statement sending a familiar thrill of arousal through his body. Placing his signature green ushanka on his head and wrapping his coat around himself tightly, he glances in the mirror before unfastening the window. It is brutally cold outside, and the breeze is biting even through the window. He briefly toys with the idea of wearing a scarf and gloves, but he doesn't have far to walk and he left them there last time so he decides against it. The exertion and the afterglow always seem to dampen his powers of reasoning, so remembering something so trivial is usually out of the question.

He leans outside, the winter air biting at his face, and skilfully leaps to a thick branch on the conveniently placed tree. He balances with practised ease, then swings himself down onto the ground; the gentle thud muffled by the thick Colorado snow.

He sneaks out the gate, speed walking out onto the pavement before slowing as soon as he feels the coast is clear. Practically on autopilot, he walks to his destination as per his usual shameful routine. Turning to make sure no one is nearby, he rings the doorbell twice.

He hears movement from inside the house, irked footsteps moving down the staircase and across the landing. The door swings open violently, and Kyle is met with the angered face of Eric Cartman.

"What fucking time do you call this?!" he snarls, narrowing his eyes in defiance. "You must be out of your mind."

"You've got that right," sighs the smaller boy, brushing past the other man's supple form and leaning against the dimly lit walls of the hallway. "Don't pretend you were anymore asleep than I was."

He smirks at this, entertaining his own private musings. "Sneaky fuckin' Jewrat. You better be here for the same damn reason I think you are."

"Naturally," Kyle sighs, a mixture of longing and shame punctuating his words. He brings his body forward, resting his damp palms on the fabric of Cartman's pyjama shirt to further illustrate his point.

"Filthy fucking catamite." Cartman growls, lunging his body forward and sending the redhead's fragile frame hurtling towards the faded plaster. The sudden collision, combined with the rough contact of the brunettes strong hands forces the air from his lungs. He sputters, gasping for oxygen and giving Cartman clear access between his parted lips.

The man pulls their lips together forcefully, drawing away Kyle's precious oxygen again with his frightful passion. His lips are hungry and claiming, but his victim is quick to respond to his typical forcefulness with a fire of his own.

Cartman's teeth graze his lip seductively before biting down securely, causing Kyle to moan appreciatively as a familiar hot liquid trails down his skin – a seductive mixture of saliva and blood. As the brunette trails his tongue across the crimson droplets his hold tightens on the auburn's wrists, holding them above their heads with a bruising grip. Each drop of the coppery elixir is ravished by the younger man, sending a pleasing jolt straight to his hardening cock. He continues his battery of Kyle's exposed skin, switching his attention to his steep jaw, his slender enticing neck. It's not long before the sucking and biting of the exposed flesh causes new bruising on his flushed skin, his breath ghosting over old marks from their previous tirades.

"Can't go too long without my cock, can you?" Cartman smirks, entwining his fingers in the Jew's fiery locks and tugging violently. "You're just proving what everyone already knows, you filthy whore. You turn up on my doorstep in the middle of the bloody night begging for it, god you're so damn hard already. It's fucking pathetic."

Kyle bites hip lip and groans in response, the harsh words sending a shameful shiver of longing through his bones. His needy vocalizations earns him a loud slap across his face. At first he registers the cracking sound before the effects of the collision emerge, his skin burning sharply from the contact and only serving to arouse him further.

"Oh no no no, Kahl. You see, you can't disturb me in the early hours of the morning without having to fucking pay for it, no matter how horny your sweet kosher ass is." He spits, his dark voice sounding deliciously promising as he nips along the boys bare throat. "You're not getting off yet you little shit, not until I say you do. I want you to beg for me Kyle," Cartman's hands find their way into his messy curls again, pulling to give his probing lips better access to the underside of the boy's jaw. "I want you to fucking cry for me, give me a taste of those yummy Jew tears as I make you scream my name over and over."

"God yes…" Kyle whimpers, his back arching as he senses fingers grab him through the fabric of his jeans, cruelly massaging his painful need as the friction makes his hardness deliciously raw under the rough material. Sensing his frustration, Cartman slides a hand lewdly between his fly and grasps the skin below his taught briefs. He wets his lips with his tongue subconsciously, watching Kyle's body writhe in pleasure as he runs his fingers over his needy cock; the only lubricant for the movement being the traces of perspiration on their skin. Kyle mumbles profanities and stuttered pleas, his body shuddering under the ministrations of the brunette's large hand. It usually takes much longer for Kyle to become so desperate, and the larger boy is elated at his obvious need. After a short period, Cartman feels the flesh in his hand twitch as clear fluid trails from the head of his cock. His hand withdraws – to much protest from the passionate Jew – as he licks his fingers for all traces of precome, greatly enjoying the displeasure and aggravation painted onto Kyle's perfect features. Disregarding his pride, he reaches for his crotch only to have his arm slapped away from the area by the grinning Nazi, a glint of violent lust in his watchful eyes.

"You better learn to bloody listen. You don't get shit until I say you do, got it? I've barely even gotten started." Kyle can hear the smirk in his taunting voice, so authoritarian and dark and unbelievably sexy. The threat in his tone is oh-so-thrilling, and as usual the harsh nature of his words make his cock twitch dreadfully in his unfastened jeans.

The brunette entwines one hand in Kyle's fiery hair, tugging roughly as his other fingers trail down his pale body. His fingers wander under the thin shirt, raking his nails across the taught abdomen before reaching the chest, scratching at his hardened nipple before rolling it between his digits. Kyle whimpers at the harsh movements, biting his swollen lip and tilting his head slightly to increase the strength of the grip on his locks. Cartman moves back slightly, allowing the auburn to remove his shirt before proceeding to suck at the pink buds, biting down cruelly after several moments. Kyle yelps at the sudden action, but when the sore skin is soothed by stimulating strokes of the brunette's wet tongue all is forgiven. His breath shudders as the bite/lick cycle repeats, the mix of pleasure and pain wearing away at his fragile resolve.

"Trousers off," demands the larger boy, moist breath dancing across the skin at his lips. "Go to the desk."

Kyle breathlessly obliges, locking eyes with his partner as he hooks his thumbs over his waistband and slides his jeans from his hips in an effort to be seductive. He stands for a moment, feeling somewhat smug as he feels the ravenous eyes dart across each exposed inch of his pale flesh. He turns slowly, allowing Cartman a clear view of his posterior as he approaches the desk, pressing against the dark wood; the cool surface feels alien against his sizzling skin, and the edge of the desk cuts into his hipbones as it always does.

Pleased with the obedience, the brunette smiles and runs his fingers longingly over his prize, grasping at his rounded ass with a tantalisingly soft grip before bringing his hand back to the flesh in a stinging blow. The redhead gasps as Cartman continues his assault, reddening his sweet skin with each painful slap, humming contentedly to himself as the frail body below him shudders in response to his cruel force.

His free hand runs up his back to the space between his shoulder blades, pushing his victim downward forcefully. Large hands secure the base of the boy's neck, pushing his face into the wood as the other hand continues its battery of his raw cheek.

"Into the position. Now. You better not move those fucking hands." Cartman snarls, dragging his fingers against the cleft of Kyle's ass. Eager to please, the Jew pushes his torso up with elbows and places his hands over the back of his neck to protect the vulnerable area from the inevitable attack. While he wouldn't dream to admit it, the fact that Cartman is so adamant about this precaution is very reassuring to Kyle. While he may never be able to say it to his face, this small detail is an indication of the brunette's care for him.

The younger boy rummages through the drawer of his dresser, running his hands contemplatively over the assortment of leather and metal within before withdrawing an item - a long black rod with a leather tongue. He turns the implement over in his hands, holding it in an expert grip as he grins amusedly at the item. With practiced accuracy he trails the leather tip across Kyle's pale shoulders - tensed at the uncharacteristically gentle stimulation - and crosses the slightly reddened flesh of his pert buttocks. The auburn tenses slightly, expecting another blow to the ass, but the brunette bypasses this area completely in favour for the meeting of his thighs.

The titillating caress of the crop causes Kyle's knees to quake slightly, dismayed by the unusually gentle contact. Cartman slides the instrument across the apex of his thighs, moving between the two to encourage the smaller boy to part his legs. Once he has better access, he runs his hands across the parting of his ass before cupping the cheeks both firmly and pressing his body against the trembling form, licking and nipping at the meat of his shoulders. The older boys emerald eyes widen as he feels his partners arousal firm against the small of his back, thick and pressing through the material of Eric's pants. The scrape of his teeth and the press of his rigid cock is magnificent, and Kyle can't help but sigh raggedly at the delicious sensations.

As quickly as the gentle contact had begun, it had ended. The larger boy retreats, pulling backward altogether as he cuts out the sounds of the redheads protest with a heavy lash of the crop. Kyle yelps – not in displeasure but at the shock of the sudden sensation, earning another sure blow to the already reddening flesh. This time the redhead exhales breathily, hushing himself by biting firmly on his swollen lip as the leather tongue collides harshly against his flank. Cartman groans at the sight, but is determined to hear the pleading voice of his Jew.

The barrage of attacks that follow increase in severity, his deadly precision promising welts and bruising, adorning his pale skin with licks of vibrant red. The sensation pulls half-moans from Kyle's lips, unable to restrain his vocalizations as each blow makes the area even more sensitive.

Each flick of his skilled wrist sends tremors across the smaller boy's skin, his quaking pants broken only by his yelps. The noises become louder as he loses restraint amidst the conflicting pain and pleasure racking his body, groaning at each lash on the delightfully sore flesh. The ache emanates across the surrounding area, and Kyle hears his rabid pulse in his ears as he grits his teeth; his knees weakening until he has to put his weight on the wooden desk, causing the corners to dig into his stomach even more.

When Cartman feels satisfied, he stands back to admire his handiwork. His partners alluring form is coated with a faint sheen of sweat and his wonderfully rounded cheeks are covered in harsh, glaring lashes. The area seems so raw, and this is evident once the brunette runs his hands across the angry flesh and his victim shivers, shamefully moaning as Eric firmly palms his aching ass in admiration.

"So fucking beautiful" Cartman breathes, entranced by the decorated skin. He runs his index finger across the skin, shining shades of red and purple at his touch. He comes across several darker bruises from the week before and involuntarily smiles at the memory. His Jew will be sore for days, and the thought is thrilling… he revels in the knowledge that each time Kyle sits he will be forced to remember everything: his heated touch, his strong blows, being cruelly whipped, thoroughly devoured and fucked raw.

Jesus Christ, the thought alone causes his cock to twitch violently in his trousers, and he decides to give it some much needed attention.

"On your knees, I need your mouth right now." The brunette's authoritarian voice is thick with lust as he commands the auburn, grasping onto his curls and pulling them taught to bring Kyle's face closer to his clothed crotch.

"Slow down," Kyle teasingly replies, "it's not fair you're still wearing so much clothing."

The boldness of the statement frustrates Cartman, who tugs on the hair between his fingers to remind Kyle of his authority. The naughty Jew! He decides against hating this boldness once the older boy grips his waistband between his teeth and tugs the garment to the floor, however. This type of courage is always well received, regardless of the audacity.

His grin widens as Kyle takes in the view of his erection, straining desperately against the fabric of his boxers with a circle of moisture at the tip, indicating his arousal. The feisty redhead runs his tongue across the elastic material, further dampening the fabric and causing the larger boy to hiss through gritted teeth. Smiling mischievously, the rebellious redhead looks teasingly at his partner and is met with narrowed eyes – chocolate orbs shimmering with desire and frustration.

"Don't be a motherfucking tease now, Kahl. I know you can't wait to get you filthy mouth full of my delicious cock." Cartman's smug tone is dancing with wanton malice as he rids himself of the cursed boxers, heavy erection springing free from its confinement. The crudeness of his words causes Kyle to squirm slightly, simultaneously feeding his lust and igniting his shame, which in turn begin to fuel each other. He hates the way the humiliation riles him up, the awful feelings somehow translating into desire. Cartman however loves this, seeing his masochistic Jew fall from grace, conflicted by the pleasures of his body. He always overthinks things, and the shame of the pleasure always makes the boy's suffering twice as sweet.

Averting his gaze from Eric's taunting eyes, the auburn slides his tongue timidly across the head. The familiar salty taste of his skin is intensified by his precome, and his cheeks flush a vibrant scarlet as he laps at the organ, a tone darker than his flaming hair but just as extravagant in hue.

At the sound of the brunettes moan, he takes it deeper into his mouth. He sucks sweetly on the heated flesh invading the wetness of his mouth, damp lips stretched across the impressive girth. The sensation of the familiar, firm velvet pulsing at the touch of his tongue is so incredible, so pleasingly degrading. While the taste isn't exactly wonderful, each enraptured moan from his partner is so thrilling, so arousing. The filth of it all, combined with the steady stream of lusty swears from the larger boys lips, causes his leaking cock to twitch eagerly in the open air. The room is frigid, but the heat of their actions leave them both sweltering in feverish sweats; the glistening sheen of perspiration lessening the friction of their bare skin.

Cartman further tangles his thick fingers in the vibrant red locks, driving Kyle's movements as he thrusts simultaneously. His breathing is laboured as he tilts the auburn's head upward, drinking in his submission as he fuck his mouth mercilessly. Kyle keeps up the pace as long as he can, matching the violent movements until a particularly forceful thrust causes him to gag fiercely, pulling himself backward to avoid choking. The contraction of his throat felt incredible to the stocky brunette, and the sight of his Jew gagging on his cock is ridiculously sexy. He coughs hoarsely for a moment, his throat increasingly raw as saliva dribbles from his shaking lips. The imagery pushes Cartman to the edge, and it takes only a few rough strokes until he groans in rapture, emptying his seed across the boy's flushed face.

Kyle's eyes widen as he feels the wet fluid across his cheek, the viscous liquid trailing down his skin in hot, sticky globs. His disgust heightens further as the Nazi smears the white elixir across his check with the sweep of his thumb, his hand cradling the redhead's desecrated face with an uncharacteristic softness. Kyle's emblazoned emerald eyes meet Eric's cruel mahogany orbs, glowing with pride and domineering energy.

The younger boy looks rather undone, and runs his fingers through his hair reverently as he observes Kyle's needy expression, in full understanding.

Fuck me, his eyes plead. Hurt me, control me, break me.

"God, I need-" begins the auburn, but his pleas are broken by a sudden slap to his face. The area flares red immediately, the stinging sensation causing his eyes to water but only serving to further turn him on, his pants turning into shuddering whimpers.

"Mmm, don't worry. I'll fuck you good, you know." Eric hums, his authoritarian voice dancing in the heated air. "Just the way my little whore likes it."

With those words, he realises any intentions of reaching the bed were probably wishful thinking.

"Go ahead."

The brunette grins, grabbing for a small bottle before gesturing for Kyle to make himself useful. He complies, pushing himself onto his hands and knees, the scrape of the carpet on his bare skin heightening his anticipation. Cartman prizes open the lid, squeezing a small amount of the thick, sweet smelling liquid onto his thick fingers – enough to ease the passage and decrease the friction but not so much that it will completely eliminate the burn. The pain, Kyle finds, greatly enhances the sexual experience. It increases the standard pleasures and the rawness of it is awfully fitting to the animal carnality of the whole affair, thrilling him in ways that delight the dark, masochistic core of himself beyond compare.

The first finger enters with little resistance, and the second only results in a full feeling. Once he is ready for the third however, the familiar stretch is there. Eric works him over with his thick fingers, readying him for his girth while avoiding the sensitive hub of nerves that will rack his body with pleasure. He furthers the boy's frustration until he cannot contain himself any longer, twisting his hips to try to get that much needed stimulation, his dignity long disregarded, replaced with the overwhelming need to feel.

"Please fuck me sir, please!" He whimpers, needy voice falling from his trembling lips. "I want you inside of me."

Kyle always knows how to get Carman going, and this little admission was all the convincing he needed. Pleased to oblige, the brunette eagerly lathers up his cock before grasping his partner's bruised hips, readying himself before sinking into the overwhelmingly tight heat of his entrance. The feverish temperature of his body and the vicelike grip - enhanced by the steady contractions of muscle – make it difficult not to lose control of himself. Reluctantly, he allows the auburn a minute to adjust to the invasion, buried to the hilt and unmoving. Once relaxed, Kyle breathes deeply and rolls his hips, biting his lip at the burning sensation. He feels so full, so stretched around the thick girth, and as usual these dreadful feelings are undeniably appealing.

At this indication, Cartman withdraws before forcing himself inward – driving himself in to the hilt once more in a rapid movement. The harsh friction causes the auburn to bite his lip forcefully, drawing blood from the broken skin. The familiar copper taste is wonderful, heightening his arousal as his partner thrusts once more, pushing against the painful flesh of his tarnished cheeks. His still throbs alluringly from the crop, and now with the harsh movement of the penetration it is all so overwhelming.

Cartman soon picks up a steady rhythm - hard, rough and sure. He rocks into the shuddering body below him, the older boy completely at his mercy, moaning in rapture with each powerful thrust. His angle is perfected through practice, and each snap of his large hips causes his rigid length to scrape against the sensitive bundle of nerves he knows will soon turn the boy below him into a shivering mess in his steely grasp.

"Mmnn, you're so… fucking tight…" Eric murmurs, his words stumbling around his desperate gasps. His voice falters, still dominating yet the evident tones of pleasure remove all traces of malice.

Kyle readily bucks his hips in response, now shifting his lower body in synchronization with the larger boy's movements, meeting the brunette's hips with his own in an animalistic collision of flesh. His deep blush has spread across his nimble chest, painting the milky skin with enticing scarlet hues. The shame is evident as he rides each thrust – the shame of the pleasure, the shame of the submission, the shame of being fucked, and the shame of revelling in this knowledge.

Feeling a familiar set of teeth scrape across his back, the redhead moans appreciatively as Cartman leans downward across his body. The extra weight on his body makes it harder to stay composed, and a particularly forceful thrust sends him reeling, and under the consequent wave of pleasure his elbows weaken and give way, his face colliding with the dirty carpet. The filth is completely disregarded by Kyle, however, as he tries to focus on his breathing. Inhale, exhale through his trembling lips. His thick breaths moisten the carpet below him, and the saliva and blood combination leaves a sticky pink strand from his chin to the floor, yet he is so far gone that these trivialities don't seem to register. All he knows, all he feels is this delicious pain pleasure that rips relentlessly through his body.

"Just like that…" moans the younger boy, his hands roaming across Kyle's flushed chest as he punctuates each word with a nip at the skin of his back. "Fucking scream for me."

And the auburn does, not actually of his own will but rather because he has no hold of the sensations racking his body, and the sounds of rapture begin to flow freely from his lips without his conscious consent. He moans loudly - his quivering pleas muffled by the carpet – a steady stream of obscenities accenting his unhinged state as he nears release.

Kyle's throat is raw and his groans are hoarse, and, beyond coherent thought, speaks the one thing on his mind.

"More."

Eric's hand finds its way across his taught stomach to the auburn boy's erection, strong, heavy and weeping in his hand. He stokes firmly in time with his thrusts, feeling the hard cock twitch in his grip as Kyle gets closer to the edge.

"Come for me."

Eric's voice, thick with lust, echoes throughout the redheads mind as his body convulses with pleasure – coming in hot, thick spurts, coating his stomach with the white liquid. The contractions of his muscles send Cartman to a similar state of rapture, his final thrusts shallow and uneven as he finally releases, his whole body shaken by the unrelenting force of his orgasm.

The brunette's body goes slack immediately, resting his bulk on his exhausted boyfriend as he verges on sleep, causing the redhead to emit a strained grunt. He pushes of the larger boy, rolling sideways so that he lies beside him, and places his head on Eric's heaving chest.

The room is silent as they recover, their laboured breaths becoming more regular and their flurried heartbeats slowing. With his head pressed firmly to Cartman's torso, Kyle lies contentedly, smiling at the sound of his partners racing pulse. After a few moments, he turns his face upward to gaze into the boys chocolate eyes – communicating what he could never say in words. There is a strange, wondrous light to them, and Kyle recognises it as a reflection of his own gaze, this very same feeling. Something beyond baseless desire, the light of the afterglow.

More than the need to torment or defile, yet a need nonetheless – one that echoes his own.

"Let's get some sleep, you crazy ass Jew." Eric murmurs affectionately, running his fingers through auburn curls. Fatigued, Kyle has no choice but to oblige. And, in that moment, the soreness and the filth don't bother him in the slightest.

Sighing contentedly, Kyle quickly slips into sweet slumber in the gentle arms of his sworn enemy.

A.N. Yay! thank god that's finally done. I started writing this weeks ago, so it's great to have finished it.

Please review, I love to hear what people think and it quite literally makes my day (I am indeed that sad) even though it only takes a second! I had a great time writing this so I hope you all enjoy it. It's the filthiest thing I've posted as of yet, but I wouldn't count on that lasting too long.

If you have any requests/ideas feel free to PM me, I love to hear everyone's ideas and if I have time I'd love to write you something.

- NocturnalLament