"Cartman, can I get your help on something?"

"Really? After doing most of the work on five different stage backgrounds, you dare to ask more of me? When am I going to start getting compensated for all my efforts, huh? You think that you can just use me as a soulless tool, like a slave or some whore-"

"You literally volunteered to help me with my play, and I know that you love to paint. Plus, you look at those backdrops like they're your babies or something."

"That's beside the point!"

"Quit being an ass, fatass. Look, are you willing to help me or not?"

"That depends, my dear Kyle. How much cash we talking?"

"Just shut up and listen me."

"Fine."

Their bantering coming to a close, Cartman eyes Kyle from the desk chair as the redhead releases a heavy sigh, suddenly appearing anxious. Kyle can't seem to bring his eyes up from his bedsheets, and he locks his arms against his chest.

"The thing is, I need some help with the costumes."

As Kyle lifts his gaze to Cartman, he's met with the brunette's raised palm in his face. Kyle narrows his eyes, spotting bits of Cartman's arrogant grin behind his large hand.

"No can do, gayboy. My incredible skills are limited to landscape. If I were as amazing in any other art form, it just wouldn't be fair to everyone else, you know?"

Annoyance flooding through Kyle, he leans over to stare at Cartman with a deadpan expression. Cartman merely winks at him, which Kyle rolls his eyes at.

"I'm not talking about designing the costumes. I already have those sketches done. You're not the only one who can draw, you know. Here, let me show you."

With that said, Kyle turns his back to Cartman, digging his hands under the bed. As the redhead reaches down, Cartman's smug grin melts off his lips as he gapes at Kyle's ass. He knows that Kyle is going to pull himself up at any second, and that he shouldn't be staring, or at least shouldn't be making it so goddamn obvious.

Still, Cartman can't bring himself to look away. Just as Cartman mindlessly leans forward, Kyle halts his searching and brings his head back up. There's a perplexed look on his face, and Cartman wonders for a moment if Kyle has some sort of internal pervert alert system or something. Gripping the chair to keep from toppling out of it, Cartman scrambles to appear natural as Kyle cranes his neck back to meet his gaze.

"Aren't you gay too?"

The two stare at each other in silence. Cartman would've burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation if he hadn't nearly been caught drooling over his friend. To make matters worse, Kyle's flat mouth starts to twitch upwards, clearly holding in his own laughter.

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?!"

"You just insulted me for being gay."

"Don't make things complicated, that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to use it."

"It kinda does."

"No, it doesn't."

"Because then you're also insulting yourself."

"Dammit, why can't you just let me say whatever I want without ruining it?"

"Because I'm a smartass?"

"Fuck yeah you are!"

"And you love me even still."

"Fuck yeah I do!"

A sudden, harsh chill spreads along Cartman's skin, his eyes widening at what he just said. Fear and panic over his accidental confession override every inch of his being, utterly terrified at what comes next. He forces himself to look up at Kyle, but instead of his friend gawking at him, his back is already arched again as he continues to shuffle around below his bed.

'I guess he didn't hear me…'

Finding the strength to tear his eyes away from Kyle's beautiful backside, Cartman tilts his head back to gaze up to the ceiling and far past it.

'Oh Lord, thank you so much for your mercy. I knew you were up there all along, looking out for me. I promise to be a better Christian from now on until the end of time.'

He probably isn't going to stick to that.

"Here it is! I have to hide it well or my mom will find it. I swear, sometimes I think she's half bloodhound."

Cartman lowers his chin to look back at Kyle, who pats the spot next to him. After two close encounters, Cartman frets at the thought of being so close to Kyle, not to mention being on his bed. He hesitates for a moment, conflicted but not seeing an immediate way out that wouldn't seem suspicious, Cartman swallows before lifting himself off the chair. As he moves to sit down, Kyle sends him a smirk.

"Anyway, you should've just went with your derogatory Jew remarks instead. If you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now, would we?"

Cartman glares at his snarky friend, his nerves calmed a little after Kyle's continued attitude.

"You have no one to blame but yourself."

In response, Cartman throws himself on top of Kyle, who gasps at the unexpected weight but still finds a way to laugh at what he's gotten himself into.

"Yeah? Well, neither do you, gayboy."

Laughing through the pain, Kyle taps Cartman's back repeatedly, signaling his surrender.

"You're right, I asked for that. I went too far, but I've learned my lesson. Now please get off before I snap in half."

With a low, satisfied chuckle, Cartman rolls off of Kyle to the empty side of the bed. Kyle heaves in a breath, yet manages a smile through the speedy inhales.

"Has anyone ever told you that you should probably lose some weight?"

Cartman sends Kyle a dismissive look before inching forward to lay on him again. Kyle snorts and flinches back, hitting the wall behind him.

"Didn't you just say that you learned your lesson? It's like you're begging to get crushed again by all this muscle."

"Right, it's definitely your muscles that were suffocating me, and certainly not anything else."

"Are you serious right now? Do you want to die that badly?"

"I don't know how to stop, man. I admit it, I have a problem."

The two share another laugh until Kyle seems to remember what is he invited Cartman over for. Sitting up, he grabs his sketchbook and hands it to Cartman. He appears surprised to see such a thing, and Kyle realizes that Cartman is now the first person that knows about his other hobby.

It's not that he's been trying to keep it a secret. Kyle just doesn't flaunt it, nor does he invest as much time into it in comparison to his main passions. Consequently, he also enjoys having a piece of his life kept only to himself. Growing up in a small town, everyone always seems to know everything about everyone. It's nice to keep one aspect of himself out of the light from long, curious noses that are always ready to sniff out new information about their fellow townsmen.

Besides, if more people find out somehow, he won't mind too much. He's used to not having secrets, so if this one comes out eventually, he can at least be proud that he managed to hide it for so long from professional meddlers.

Despite being fairly confident in his work, Kyle grows anxious while watching the pages flip in Cartman's hold. No one has ever seen his sketches until now, and the prospect of being judged, regardless of who it is, causes Kyle's body to tense. Maybe he isn't as decent as he considers himself to be.

"Damn, you're actually pretty good. These all look really cool, I can't wait to see them made."

Those words fill Kyle with relief and pride as he releases a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His mind cleared of that particular worry, Kyle returns his focus to his main objective.

"That's actually what I wanted to ask you about. Do you, by any chance, have any sort of experience with sewing?"

Cartman adjusts his position on the bed to glare down at Kyle, placing a hand on his chest as if offended by the possibility.

"Of course not, I'm not a girl."

"I actually sew a bit."

"Scratch that, I'm not a pussy."

Kyle scoffs and playfully punches Cartman's shoulder, which ends up hurting the brunette more than he'll ever admit. Twisting to lay on his side, Kyle faces his friend with a contemplative expression, clearly wondering if he should say what's on his mind.

"Oh, just spit it out. It's not like I can think any less of you."

His words make Kyle's lips perk up, and suddenly, the redhead remembers who he's talking to. There's no need to question if he should hold anything back. He's talking to Eric Cartman, one of his best friends.

That still doesn't sound plausible, yet here they are.

"I didn't think so. Basically, there is someone I know who is really good at this sort of thing. I have a couple people already on my costume team, mainly Kevin and some of his friends since they make their own cosplay outfits, plus Butters and Kenny, with me doing the little I can in that department. Kevin said that this guy is really talented, and when he told me who it is, I hesitated, but then he showed me some of his work and, I kid you not, I felt my eyes water at the mere thought of someone as skilled as him being part of my project."

Cartman nods along but doesn't understand where Kyle is going with this. He tells himself to focus on his confusion rather than the tiny flare of irritation burning in the pit of his stomach at how much Kyle seems to need the guy even though he doesn't like him.

"Okay, so you have a boner for this dude's work. Who is it that has you so freaked out?"

Nibbling on his bottom lip (the action totally not doing anything for Cartman), Kyle lowers his gaze to his open sketchbook. Scanning his design of the Elf King, he imagines what it would be like to see it crafted in reality, to be able to run his hands across the different fabrics and see it worn.

It'll all be worth it, this is about making his dream come to fruition.

"Well, it's Kip Drordy, he's a freshman. I doubt that you remember him, he hardly made an impression on anybody when we were kids, and only recently has he made friends with people I actually know of."

The lack of recognition in Cartman's blank stare confirms what he had thought, and he continues on.

"He's not a bad guy, but he seems to have some sort of interest in me, and has for as long as I can remember. I'm not sure if he just looks up to me or has a crush on me, but the few times I've been around him, he's made me kind of uncomfortable, and I ended up not bringing up the play whenever I tried to recruit him."

Cartman opens his mouth to bombard Kyle with questions about this fanboy that's apparently been bothering him for several years, but Kyle raises his hand, motioning for him to stay quiet. Despite his newfound rage over someone creeping on Kyle for so long, Cartman presses his lips together in a firm line. His hands ball into fists in his lap, shaking ever so slightly.

"I don't want to take advantage of whatever it is that he feels for me just to get him to work for me, but, as you put it, my thespian hard-on for his talent is crazy strong. Until I figure out how to deal with him properly, do you mind asking him for me if he'd be interested in joining us?"

'Fuck no.'

Going against his urge to yell his frustrations out at his friend over these circumstances, Kyle's pleading eyes take the fight out of Cartman. With an exaggerated sigh, Cartman nods in agreement. Kyle's beaming face tells him that he made the right choice, despite hating everything about what's to come of all this.

"Thanks, dude. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants. I know I'm like a saint to you at this point."

In a surprise attack, Kyle jumps on top of Cartman's stomach, sending both of them into laughing fits.

God better make sure this decision doesn't bite him in the ass.

More specifically, he better keep this Kip freak from biting Kyle's ass.