Heylo and thanks to the reviewers! Holy shit…55 readers. I am loved.
Alcorion – I didn't feel right cutting that adorable Jew-fro Kyle has. It's part of his charm... and I find it incredibly sexy. I used the Kyman handle after you called the pair Kyman. I've always heard it called KyCart. So that's a bit of a tribute to you!
xoxoNatalie- I write every single day, and I hope to keep up this pace barring any sort of family nastiness.
All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.
____
Kyle sat on the couch, breathing hard. Who knew that having a six pound cast on one leg could cripple him so much? It was like dragging a ball and chain around the house, through trash. Kyle rested against the far armrest, picking up his leg and settling it down on the cushions.
"There…" he looked around at the room, smiling at his work. He pulled off his hat, ruffling up his mass of red curls. They cascaded around his face, highlighting his freckles and making his green eyes sparkle. The house was vacuumed, the floor mopped in the kitchen. All of the ground floor was clean…the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, and the basement. All cleaned.
Kyle looked across the room at the TV he'd dusted awkwardly, thinking. He was glad he'd cleaned the house…ignoring the fifteen or so times his phone buzzed in his pocket. But now he was hot, sweaty and tired from lugging his broken ankle around the house. Cartman had watched him for an hour or so, then disappeared upstairs and hadn't been seen since.
That was around six hours ago. Stan and Kenny would just be getting out of school now.
"Cartman! Come down here! It's clean!" Kyle shouted upstairs. He heard no response and shrugged, grabbing the remote from the armrest and clicking the TV on. He wasn't surprised to see that while Cartman was poor…he did have cable.
They had gotten to know each other a little at least. Cartman had refused to talk about anything to do with money or his mother leaving, which were the two subjects nearest Kyle's mind. But they made small talk without insulting each other.
Kyle flipped through channels, listening for signs Cartman may be coming down the stairs.
He had just settled on watching old reruns of a childhood favorite, Family Guy, before he heard a knock at the door.
"Cartman! Door!" Kyle shouted. No answer.
"Oh for Moses' sake…" Kyle grabbed his crutches and slid them under his arms, heading to answer the door. He opened the door to see a man standing there. He frowned. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Uh… I was hoping for little Eric but god damn cutie…I'll take you bent over a bed any day." The man growled lustily, looking up and down Kyle's body. Kyle's mouth almost hit the doorstep.
"Excuse me?!" Kyle shrieked.
"Oh don't act coy…I love the hair." The man reached up and wound a finger in Kyle's hair. The Jewish boy slapped the hand away. "Ooh, feisty. Don't worry, I'll pay just as well as I do for Eric."
Kyle squeaked when two arms encircled him and forced him back into the living room, and a foul-smelling mouth mashed onto his. Kyle yelped and pushed at the man's shoulders, squirming when he felt fingers on his rear.
Oh god what was Cartman into? Was this what Cartman had been doing for money? This?! What his mother had been doing since he was little?!
Kyle pushed the other man off and without a word, punched him in the face. "Get the hell away from me, you pervert!" he shouted, his eyes blazing. "How dare you touch me! And you, you tell everyone you know that Eric Cartman has been…servicing…to stop coming around!"
The man stared, shocked, holding his nose and staring at Kyle. Kyle wobbled unsteadily, off balance from punching the other man.
"Aw baby don't be like that…"
"Get out!" Kyle screamed, pointing at the open door. "Or I'll report you to the police for trying to rape a minor!"
That got the man moving. He ran out the door and slammed it shut, leaving Kyle to flop down on the cleaned carpet. His leg was throbbing again, twice as badly as before.
Cartman came down the stairs, eyes red, and one half shut. "Kahl. What the fuck was that?" he demanded.
"I think he was drunk…he thought you were whoring yourself out." Kyle said angrily, folding his arms across his chest.
Cartman cleared his throat. "Heheh….fancy that." He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Cartman…is there something you need to tell me?" Kyle asked sternly.
"Jesus Jew what the fuck are you, my mother?" Cartman sneered. "Oh that's right, you're not. You want to be the fucking maid."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Would it kill you to open up for five minutes?" he asked.
"Yes." Cartman said, gesturing for Kyle to move his leg aside. Kyle pulled his leg on the floor, settling it so he didn't feel any pain. Cartman settled onto the cushions next to him. "You want some pizza or something?" Cartman asked.
Kyle nodded, but he was tired. When Cartman settled down next to him after using Kyle's cell phone to order the pizza, Kyle was asleep.
___
Cartman sighed and grabbed the remote off of Kyle's lap, flicking through channels. Kyle watched Family Guy…how fucking gay. He leaned back and sighed, putting his arm on the back of the sofa. "Man…" he looked around the room.
The little Jew-rat was pretty good at cleaning houses after all. He'd been upstairs hiding all the condoms and sex toys, just in case Kyle had come upstairs. Then he'd smoked some of his mother's pot and slept for an hour or so. But this…this was pretty nice. There were no roaches in sight, the carpet was back to its usual celery green, not the sad grayish brown it had been. The trash was all gone…maybe Kyle should be a maid.
Cartman smirked at the idea of Kyle running around in a French maid's outfit. It wasn't an unattractive image.
He started when he felt a weight settle against his side, and looked over to find his little Jew nestled against his side. Kyle's head was nuzzled on his stomach, one of his hands curled up on Cartman's hip, legs stretched out.
"Kyle." Cartman said flatly, poking his friend in the side. Kyle groaned and pressed his face into Cartman's gut.
Maybe…maybe this wasn't so bad. Cartman looked down at Kyle and hesitantly wound his fingers into those tempting curls. He smiled and ran his finger along Kyle's cheek. His little jew-rat sighed into his stomach.
Kyle must have been tired. He was dead asleep, snoring softly.
Cartman gently guided his hand back to Kyle's curls. "Damn you're cute when you sleep, you little kike." He said quietly, running his fingers down Kyle's scalp. Too bad he couldn't let Kyle know that he liked him. That would bring up too many bad things that Cartman had done in the past.
What if Kyle outed him to the school?
It was plausible. All those years of abuse couldn't have cultured a lot of love for him. Kyle might out him at school just to get some revenge. No, this little affectionate pawing was for Cartman and Cartman alone.
After poking Kyle again to make sure he was asleep, Cartman slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to Kyle's cheek.
The doorbell rang again, prompting Cartman to sit straight up. Kyle groaned and his eyelids fluttered open. He saw where he was and struggled to sit up, blushing. "Sorry Cartman." He said, rubbing his eyes with a hand, propping himself up with the other.
"Finally. My leg was falling asleep." Cartman growled, standing up and going to answer the door. Kyle laid down in the warm spot where Cartman had been sitting, smirking at the TV. Cartman had never been able to stand Family Guy.
"Kenny? What the fuck are you doing with the pizza boy?" Cartman demanded at the doorway.
"Mometimems phe pipha phalls oph meh mruck."
"So you follow him around like some sort of dog hoping a pizza drops loose? You're pathetic, Kenny." Cartman growled, paying the pizza man and protectively holding onto the box Kenny was eyeing.
"C'mon dude, let him come in and share it." Kyle piped up from the couch.
Cartman glared down Kenny. He was interrupting his private time with Kyle. Who knew when he'd be able to paw the Jew like that again? Unless Kyle took up wrestling or Mr. Garrison put them on another project, they'd go back to how it always had been. Arguments. Nothing more.
"Fine you poor piece of shit." Cartman muttered under his breath, turning his back but leaving the door open. Kyle was sitting upright now, letting Cartman reclaim his seat on the couch. Kenny took the floor, facing them, looking between the two of them.
He giggled. "Mhat mou phoing mere, Kyle?" he asked with a knowing wink. "Mey!" he yelped when Cartman viciously kicked him, then handed him a piece of pizza with pineapple and Canadian bacon.
Kyle had never seen a pizza slice disappear that fast. When Cartman handed him a piece he sighed and slowly started picking out the ham. "You want the ham, Kenny?" he asked. The poor boy nodded emphatically.
"Don't feed him scraps. You feed him he's just going to keep coming around." Cartman muttered. Fucking Kenny. He knew! The poor fucker was giving him that look…the same look he gave Stan when he and Wendy emerged from behind the school with puffy lips and mussed hair. Why the hell was Kyle giving Kenny his food?
"I can't eat ham, Cartman." Kyle sighed and inspected the pizza, then sank his white teeth into it.
"What the fuck do Jews have against pigs anyway?" Cartman growled, handing his crust to Kenny and taking out another piece of pizza.
"Mehyre unmlean." Kenny pointed out.
"Kinda like you Kenny." Cartman glared at him. Kyle chuckled and slowly ate his piece. He was hungry after all the cleaning, but he knew better than to get in between Cartman and food. Kenny was probably the only one brave enough for that endeavor.
Cartman wordlessly handed him and Kenny another piece. The larger boy then mashed two pieces together like a sandwich and bit into it.
"Phan't meat phust one mlice manymore?" Kenny sniggered, wolfing down his second piece and nibbling on the ham Kyle gave him.
"Shut the fuck up Kenneh." Cartman said around the pizza in his mouth.
"Maybe phou're mouf haph been phretched out, eh?" Kenny gave him that knowing look again and Cartman froze. What the hell else did the poor boy know about?!
He laid the box in Kyle's lap and stood up, brushing pizza crumbs onto the floor.
"Dude I just vacuumed…" Kyle looked forlornly at the floor.
Cartman snatched Kenny's hand and half-dragged, half-pulled him into the kitchen. "Alright Kenny, what the fuck do you know?" he hissed, grabbing the skinny boy by the front of his parka and shaking him.
Kenny pushed him off and pulled down his hood, exposing a rather cute if bony face, and blond hair that seemed to constantly stick up at odd angles. "I know you took over your mom's old position of crack whore." He said. "I heard from Butters that his dad keeps coming over here to…check on you. Come to think of it, most of the town drunks and drug dealers are checking on you." Kenny waggled his fingers in quotations.
Cartman paled. "Kenny…don't you fucking dare tell Kyle." He growled low in his chest.
"I think he's going to figure it out. Why did you invite him over here anyway? Garrison was pissed that you didn't come into class. He said he was betting on you two to fail. Stan convinced him not to just tank your guys' grades." Kenny said, folding his arms.
"Well Stan's good for something at least." Cartman muttered, leaning against his counter. "Can you keep your poor fucking mouth shut about me? I have bills to pay and I don't want to end up running after the pizza truck."
Kenny smirked. "I can, but you're going to have to feed me every night." He grinned. "And what, pray tell, is our dear little crippled friend doing here?"
Cartman blushed. "Kenny, that is mah business. Not yours. Mahne. You will keep your dirty welfare nose out of this." He snapped.
"If you feed me. I like pizza and takeout." Kenny said.
"Fine. Just keep your mouth shut."
"Will do." Kenny pulled his hood up over his head and pulled the strings tight, wandering out and receiving a handful of ham from Kyle.
"Here Kenny, take the box. I'm sure your big brother's going to want some." Kyle said, handing him the box.
Kenny nodded gratefully and headed out the door, winking at Cartman.
"Why the fuck did you give him the rest of the pizza?" Cartman growled. Kyle shrugged.
"He needs it more than we do, Cartman." Kyle said, settling back. Cartman rubbed the back of his neck.
"Hey, do you want a ride home?" Cartman asked nervously.
Kyle pulled his phone out of his pocket and winced. "Twenty seven missed calls…all from my mom." He said quietly. "Sure…do you have a license?"
"Does it matter?" Cartman grinned.
