A/N: So, yeah, I'm back with a new multi-chapter! Ever since I watched that episode of Black Mirror I wanted to write a fic inspired by it. The emotional themes of repressed feelings, and desires, and 'what we think we should want' vs 'what we actually want' just seemed so ripe for a Kyman fic. I want to apologise in advance however, since I know zilch about gaming, and like, fight choreography? I hope you won't hold that against me in later scenes, pfft! The title is inspired by a lyric from the song 'Do You Feel it?' by Chaos Chaos. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts!

Kyle was still fussing with his hair when the doorbell rang. He ran the faucet to get rid of some of the product off his fingers, but they were still a little greasy when he answered the door. Heidi was standing there, shoulders stiff and a little hunched but Kyle just assumed that was due to the cold.

"Hey..." she smiled, voice deflated and smile weak. Kyle didn't know how to explain that.

"Hi," he replied, his own smile soon fading into a frown. "Are you okay?"

Heidi nodded, her lips pressing together tightly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine..."

"Alright..." Kyle nodded in return, making a mental note to keep an eye on her and maybe ask the question again if she still seemed off in line for popcorn. "Um, I'll just get my jacket and we can go-"

"Actually, can I come in for a minute?"

"Sure, of course..."

He stepped aside to let Heidi in. It was such an unremarkable, simple action that they had performed countless times during the five months they had been dating, and yet the uncanny déjà vu feeling that came over Kyle was more unsettling than ever.

Heidi seemed to drift into his living room, deep in thought and with her back to him. He decided not to wait until they got popcorn to ask the question again.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Her shoulders trembled as a shaky breath escaped her mouth. When she turned around, she looked pained, like there were words bubbling behind her lips that needed to be released.

"Kyle, I think we should break up."

Kyle blinked, felt his equilibrium shift a little, but he wasn't entirely surprised. That uncanny instinct already knew what Heidi was about to say. It wasn't as if he hadn't been here before... he just never imagined it happening quite the same way.

"Oh..."

Heidi's eyes were glittering with tears.

"I'm sorry..."

Kyle shook his head, because he hated seeing her cry, and being responsible for her tears was even more excruciating.

"No, no, don't be sorry..."

"I just feel like we've been growing apart lately, and breaking up is the best thing to do," Heidi added, and it sounded just a bit rehearsed.

She had clearly been considering this for a while, which reduced the odds of winning her back to supermodel slim. Kyle didn't want to be that guy, anyway. Pushy, and pathetic, and disrespectful of his (ex)girlfriend's choices. If Heidi didn't want to be with anymore, he had to be alright with it.

"Okay... is it anything I did?"

Heidi's lips parted, an answer forming. But she lost her nerve, lowering her head and staring at the Broflovski's carpet like she wanted to commit it to memory, the last time she would ever see it.

"No, not really..."

"What does that mean, Heidi?" Kyle asked, more impatient than he intended.

At least it got Heidi to look him in the eye again.

"Nothing!"

"If I've done something, I wanna know about it."

He felt it was unfair to leave somebody without telling them the whole truth of why it was over. He at least deserved closure, and if he had messed up then surely Heidi deserved to hear him take responsibility, right?

"Why does it matter, Kyle?" Heidi asked, crossing her arms. "It's not as if it would make a difference-"

"Well, yeah, I'm not asking the question so I can win you back," Kyle leapt in, on the defensive before he even realised it. "I'm not gonna stop you breaking up with me, if that's what you want-"

"Is that what you want?"

Kyle had no idea. It wasn't as if he had time to really think about this! Half an hour ago he was looking forward to watching a movie with his girlfriend, and now he had to think about if he really wanted to be with her and... shit, he should've said no immediately. That's why Heidi was looking at him with wide, gleaming eyes, why her chin was lowered, why she had her arms folded across her chest now, wounded by his silence.

Kyle didn't think for a second that Heidi asked him the question to be manipulative. It was just her nature, to ask Kyle a lot of questions. She asked him about his classes, his extracurricular activities, about his family, and she even asked about his friends - including Cartman. She asked his mom questions about what he was like as a baby, but Kyle thought that was because they both loved an excuse to peruse his mom's hefty family photo album. She always asked what he was feeling, what he was thinking, and if he was okay. It was borne out of insecurity he knew, a lingering symptom of dating Cartman all those years ago.

When he and Heidi first got together, that notion - that he was dating Cartman's ex-girlfriend - was a significant roadblock, tainting every cute text, every hand-held stroll, those initial, tentative kisses. It led Kyle to wonder what drew him to Heidi, besides the obvious. She was pretty, and smart, and kind, sure, but they actually had very little in common besides the Cartman factor. When Heidi and Cartman were dating and he was treating her like shit, Kyle felt ferociously protective of her, and when he actually got the chance to listen to how she felt, he saw a lot of his own frustrations, naive beliefs, and fears reflected back to him. He had looked at her, and saw the part of himself he wanted to save, and maybe, seven years later, he still felt drawn to Heidi because of what she represented. That kinship was still there, eased by time, and perspective, and maturity, but still compelled him. When Kyle thought of it like that, it didn't seem like he and Heidi were something that was meant to last.

But he didn't want to tell her that. He fidgeted in the silence, knowing whatever answer he gave would be the wrong one.

"Just answer my question, Heidi. I asked you first," he finally replied. It was an out, but an honest one. "Maybe it's something I can work on in the future."

Heidi nodded, accepting that there were questions she couldn't avoid either.

"Okay... when we're together, you seem to have a really hard time being present. I know you're busy with basketball, and Debate, and all that stuff, and I can overlook it when we're just hanging out, but it's when we're..." her voice drifted away from the mention of sex, even if she was the one who bought the topic up.

Kyle was glad, because even if he had convinced himself that dating Cartman's ex-girlfriend was irrelevant now, it still didn't stop his mind wandering to Cartman when he was having sex. It was gross, and horrifying, but the harder he tried to blot out the image of his goading grin, the more the images multiplied and his mind would melt away to find an obnoxious Cartman centre. Kyle had no explanation other than his brain must have had a thing for self-sabotage, and maybe it was trying to send a message that this tangled, three-way co-dependency was just a tad messed up. He thought he could take comfort in the fact that Heidi was none the wiser, that she was blind to his futile efforts, but clearly he wasn't that good an actor.

"Even then, you seem distracted, like you're just trying to get it over with, and if you're not into me then-"

"Heidi, I never meant to make you feel like I wasn't into you." Kyle stepped forward, wanting to touch her cheek but thinking better of it. "I think you're beautiful, and, yeah, I do have a lot on my mind, but... I do try-"

"And that's just it, sometimes it feels like you're forcing yourself to be in the moment." She took a long breath through her nose, shaking her head. "We're in high school, Kyle, relationships are supposed to be fun and... God, I'm not asking you to be all over me, I'm not asking anything of you. We've both been trying to make this work, and that's admirable in a lot of ways. Commitment and compromise are all great, but I'm not ready for that yet. Are you?"

Kyle didn't know if he was ready, but he knew he was tired of trying to make this work.

"No..."

"I'm just not sure you're someone I wanna commit to," Heidi mumbled. Brutally honest, sure, but at least it was her speaking her mind. "I've been there, you know? I used to think that relationships were a hundred-a hundred, but what do you do if that's not enough?"

"Right..." Kyle nodded, because he didn't have an answer. "I get it... "

She smiled.

"I still care about you, and I really do want us to be friends."

"Yeah, of course."

Heidi beamed, and wrapped her arms around him. He gently folded his arms around her too.

"Of course..." he murmured into her shoulder, savouring the smell of her perfume, and her shampoo, and how soft her hair felt against his cheek. There was no point in pretending he wasn't going to miss this.

"Thanks for understanding..." Heidi smiled when she pulled away, still holding him at arm's length.

"Thanks for being honest."

"Keep trying to be in the moment though, okay?" she asked, with a squeeze.

Kyle smiled, rolled his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure that's an oxymoron."

"You know what I mean! Try journaling, or meditating, or whatever, something to clear your head and focus your thoughts. I think it would do you a lot of good."

"Okay, I'll try," Kyle replied, not promising anything.

He watched her study his face one last time.

"Bye, Kyle..."

"Bye, Heidi."

She slipped away from him, and unlike the first time, Kyle didn't watch her leave.

He was disappointed, but not crushed. Sobered, but not hurt. He felt strangely proud of their second break up. There was no twisted, triple-cross manipulation, no second hand bigotry that sounded wrong coming out of Heidi's mouth, there was no Cartman waiting outside.

Yet, it was still all about him.

Kyle had wanted to avoid addressing his break-up, or even talking about it with his friends - understandable, he thought, since his group of childhood best friends included Cartman. He only really wanted to discuss it with Stan, if anyone, and only because he seemed like the most natural person to gravitate to in times of crisis, even though their methods for problem-solving differed somewhat. Stan was comforting like a blanket was comforting, or your favourite meal. He made Kyle feel better, but rarely offered any solutions that Kyle believed would work. Nonetheless, his desire to keep this just between him, Heidi, and his super best friend was dashed when he remembered that he and Heidi were definitely Facebook official, she of course had her own friends too, and that she would change their relationship status hours after leaving Kyle's house... and he would inevitably have to do the same.

So everybody knew; Stan, Kenny, Butters, Wendy, Bebe, Red, Nichole, Nelly, whoever else Heidi was friends with, everybody else who Kyle and Heidi knew but who didn't care about their love life, and of course, Cartman knew too.

To cheer Kyle up, Stan suggested they all hang out that Saturday afternoon. He didn't think Kyle should be alone right now. Kyle had no idea why Stan was jumping to the conclusion that without Heidi in his life he was now a danger to himself. He was bummed, sure, but he wasn't depressed. Yeah, he hadn't slept great these past couple of nights, and his appetite had shrank, and his head was hurting a lot but that was because Heidi's plea for him to quit over-thinking and live in the moment more had sent his thought spiralling into overdrive - further evidence, he thought, that his brain really was prone to self-sabotage. Only one person seemed to occupy his thoughts, taunting him, and revelling in the fact that after all these years he was still getting his own back.

Kyle's jaw had instantly tightened upon seeing Cartman outside the mall with Kenny, his fists instinctively clenching before he remembered that Cartman's by-proxy involvement in his recent break-up wasn't grounds to punch him in the face. Kyle hated to admit it, but to everybody else, this break up was definitely not Cartman's fault. It only made his presence more agitating.

The mall was still a pretty dire place to hang out, and a lot of the staff still had the pale, pistachio pallor and raspy tones of subterranean people, but the Fulfilment centre had scaled back its operations significantly since the Tegridy revolt, reviving the good old-fashioned bricks and mortar retail experience. Besides, there wasn't much for four teenage boys to do in South Park on a Saturday afternoon than hang out in a food court, and wander the halogen lighted stores.

"So why'd she break up with you?" Cartman asked, slurping on his soda. "Besides the obvious..."

Kyle sighed.

"Being?"

"That you're a boring, self-righteous dickhead."

"Not that it's any of your business, but she just said we were growing apart," Kyle replied, not even looking at Cartman.

He noticed Kenny nodding.

"Fair enough..."

"It really sucks, dude..." Stan added, clapping his shoulder.

"That's just code for 'you're lame and you've never made me cum.'"

Kyle seethed, he had the perfect excuse to punch Cartman in the face but hated how simple he made it for Cartman to rile him up. It always seemed like he was the one losing his cool, his mind consumed by the bullshit Cartman spouted.

"Don't fucking talk about me and Heidi like you know anything that went on between us!"

He didn't even realise he had lunged towards him until Stan's arm was pressed to his chest, trying to keep him back. Kyle saw a flash of fear in Cartman's eyes, before it dimmed into his usual gloating contentment.

"Hey, look!" Stan exclaimed, pointing to a promotion happening outside a video games store. He was still trying to hold Kyle back. "They've got a Universum Experience over there! Let's go check it out, huh?"

Kenny smirked, arching an eyebrow.

"Smooth..."

Nonetheless, Kyle was dragged over there along with Cartman and Kenny.

"I don't know why you've got such a boner for this all of a sudden, I've had a Universum add-on for a month and you guys didn't give a shi-"

"Cartman, bro, I would just keep your mouth shut and count yourself lucky Kyle didn't just deck you outside Hot Topic," Kenny interrupted.

The Universum Experience was bustling with intrigued shoppers, and enthusiastic salespeople wearing the black and neon green outfits that matched the company's logo. The Universum was huge, a revolutionary piece of VR, and even if they were flying off the shelves, the company clearly didn't want the hype to die and so were ramping it up with 'Experiences' just like these. Those who were trying the device out were reclining in shiny, leather gaming chairs, mouths agape and eyes glazed over, with shrunken pupils and pale irises, while the Universum salespeople tried to make polite conversation with any concerned friends or family members.

One of the salespeople, a dark-haired guy with a neat, black beard approached them. His name tag read 'Josh.'

"Hey, guys!" he grinned, hands clasped together like he was mid-applause. "Interested in trying out the Universum?"

"Um, my friend is..." Stan offered, pushing Kyle towards him like Josh was a flirty waitress.

"Great! What's your name?"

Josh had held out his hand to shake.

"Kyle..."

"Nice to meet you, Kyle! My name is Josh..." he replied, as they shared a slow, uncomfortable handshake. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Kyle perched on one of the gamer chairs, and wasn't prepared for Josh to crouch down next to him. He wasn't a little kid, for Christ's sake...

"What do you know about the Universum?"

"It's a VR add-on-"

"It's a VR add-on with a device that you put on your temple, and it basically knocks you out and transfers your consciousness into the character in the game... kinda like Avatar without the space tree-hugging," Cartman butted in.

"That's right!" Josh continued, undeterred. "It's a totally immersive gaming experience. The Universum can emulate all physical sensation. At Universum Games, we believe it's not enough to see, smell, and hear the world that developers have created. We want you to feel everything, every hit, every power-up, every breath your character takes. And the best part is that when you exit the game, there are no physical repercussions."

"What?" Kyle asked, brow creased. "A device that renders you comatose has no side-affects?"

Cartman sighed.

"I'd give up if I were you, dude," he said to Josh. "You're trying to sell this to Sergeant Buzzkill."

Kyle glared at him, and Cartman met his glowering stare with lidded, bored eyes, like he knew exactly what was going to happen. Kyle decided then, that he wasn't going to be so predictable anymore. He looked at Josh.

"I wanna try it..."

"Great!" Josh grinned, reaching for the box that contained the tiny device. There were about four placed on every side table. "Now before we start, do you have any heart conditions, or epilepsy?"

"No..."

Kyle shook his head, trying not to gulp when Josh pulled the tiny, round piece of silver metal out of the box. How could something so small be so scary? It was like a needle at the doctor's office, only a hundred times more powerful.

Kenny leaned in close to Cartman.

"Dude, you've had two heart attacks, how have you survived this thing?"

Cartman rolled his eyes.

"They have to ask that as a legality..."

"Okay, so while we are becoming compatible with popular franchises, the game I'm gonna demonstrate to you, Kyle, is one our company has designed for use with the Universum," Josh explained, as he fitted the device to Kyle's temple. It was the smallest pressure, but Kyle could feel his breaths quicken with nervous anticipation. "It's called 'NYC Vice.' We've designed it to be a very exploratory game with an extensive map, but with a cool PVP element to it too. The scene you're about to experience is purely a demo, but we think it really shows off what the Universum can do. Are you ready?"

Kyle nodded, and before he could make any sort of objection his head flopped backwards. His neck was suddenly elastic and his thoughts were being swept away by the coding and pixels swimming in his mind, waves of data crashing against his brain and washing up onto his frontal lobe. He wasn't in South Park anymore, he wasn't in the mall with Stan, and Kenny, and Cartman, and Josh. He was on the Brooklyn Bridge, the steering wheel of a Ferrari burning into his palms. His arms were sinewy with muscle and painted with tattoos, various gang symbols intertwining with each other. He was flying down the road, navigating the car like a bird navigating its wings, swerving and soaring, weaving in and out of traffic.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of glass from the passenger seat, and a bullet flew right past his eyes and straight through his window. His ears were ringing from the sound of the bullet, feeling waterlogged. There was glass everywhere; the passenger seat, twinkling in his lap, and some shards were pinching his skin, stinging with blood. He could feel tiny rivulets running down his cheeks. He turned his head and saw the culprit, a smartly dressed gentleman with a tacky gold chain and even tackier aviator sunglasses. He was frowning at Kyle, ordering his lackey driver to pick up the pace.

They soon disappeared from sight, but Kyle knew he had to follow them. The engine roared, and he could smell the hot, thick scent of the tyres burning and peeling away on the tarmac as he picked up his pace. The speedometer was quivering, and as Kyle tried to dodge a car his own spun out of control, glass crunching, and tyres scraping, and palms searing, and the force of which the car was spinning around was crushing his skull. Seething, and mouth tasting of blood, he attempted to turn the car around. He fed the steering wheel clumsily through his hands, his teeth gritted as he saw his target in the distance, still speeding away in a mysterious cloud of smoke. He was soon off, soon soaring again, the traffic thankfully thinning away. They were soon side by side, and Kyle found himself reaching for the gun he never knew he had in his holster, leaning closer to the shattered window and taking aim at one of the relentless tyres. He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet punctured the wheel. There was that hot, thick smell again, infused with a distinct metallic odour. Black bits of rubber flew away, and his rival lost control of the car, swerving into a barrier with a crash that rivalled the explosive sounds of the bullets leaving their chambers. Kyle continued to speed away, and heard the rumble of a different kind of explosion in the distance. When he looked in his wing mirror, he saw blossoming, orange flames.

Suddenly, the tide of reality was pulling him back again. The bridge was crumbling beneath his car, the code and pixels were sliding away from his frontal lobe, their pervasive, tentacular pull receding. He lurched forward, and suddenly he was back in South Park again, back in that gaming chair, with Josh, and Stan, and Kenny, and Cartman.

"Huh?" he exhaled, his chest was heaving and his heart was pounding. "What just..."

"It's okay, dude..." Stan said softly, his hand at his shoulder.

Kyle nodded, still collecting his breaths. As his confusion waned, he felt a little embarrassed that Kenny, Cartman, and some random salesperson had been witness to his freaked-out return to reality.

"How did you like it?" Josh asked.

"Yeah, it was..." Kyle smiled. "Incredible..."

"Well, I'm glad! We do have a limited offer at the moment. The Universum can be yours for just a hundred bucks, Kyle, and it comes with a free copy of 'NYC Vice'."

Kyle didn't need further convincing. He knew this was just what he needed to quiet his brain down, recalibrate and redirect his thoughts. He nodded.

"Yeah, sounds good..."

"Awesome! Sit tight and I'll just grab one for you!"

"Thanks..." Kyle replied, watching Josh walk away in a daze.

"Dude, you're seriously going to buy one now?" Stan whispered, eyes wide.

"Yeah?"

Stan frowned.

"I thought you were saving up for a car..."

"Look, Heidi said I need to find something to help me focus my mind, be in the moment, and I think something like this might just help me! Isn't prioritising my mental health something I should be doing?"

Stan rolled his eyes, and huffed.

"Yeah, of course it is-"

"Then I'm making a smart investment, aren't I?" Kyle replied with a smile, already reaching for his wallet.

It was midnight, Kyle was lying in bed playing video games but the Universum was still in its box. He wanted to play it again when he got home from the mall, but the game took forever to download. It was easy to say he had forgotten all about it by the time it was finished, and harder to admit he was scared to play again. Being in the game, putting yourself in dangerous, virtual situations and feeling everything whilst knowing it meant nothing was a strange, potent, and overwhelming rush that practically flooded his brain with dopamine. Using the Universum was like letting your brain be submerged, submitting each and every one of your neurons to the will of this tiny machine, this artificial world, and then letting it drain out of you, a satisfying sigh, a detox. And like a detox, Kyle hoped it would flush away all the toxins, the unnecessary, unproductive thoughts that his brain was content to recycle forever. He hoped it would leave him with some new, peaceful perspective. Dwelling on the past, and obsessing over people was not healthy, living in the moment was. It seemed great, so why was he so reluctant?

He kept glancing at the Universum while his soccer-playing avatar scored another goal. He tried to convince himself this was enough, what he was playing now felt just as mindless and he didn't have to pay a hundred bucks for the privilege. But the fact was, he did pay money for this thing, and he did it because he knew it worked. He vowed he would use it tomorrow, and released a sigh into his quiet room, irritated by his anxiety.

Suddenly, a little message flashed in the corner of his screen.

CARTMANBRAH is online.

Kyle ignored it, before another one popped up.

CARTMANBRAH invites you to play 'NYC Vice.'

Kyle shifted on his bed, his shoulders pulled back, once relaxed muscles now stiffening. A sensible voice in his head told him to just ignore it, but his instinct was to rise to Cartman's challenge. Because that's what most of their interactions felt like; a challenge, a dare, gauntlet after gauntlet thrown down. Kyle sighed again, a long, deep breath through his nose as he fitted the Universum to his temple and accepted Cartman's invitation.

The screen loaded for a few seconds, before it brought Kyle to a blurry, dingy alley. A PVP setting, with a character selection menu over the top of it, asking him to choose his fighter. Kyle flicked through the fighters on offer, which included a smartly-dressed guy who may have been a pimp, a heavy-set bouncer looking dude dressed all in black, a corrupt police officer, and one, blond female fighter whose name was Amber. Kyle chose a guy named Paul. His pecs were bulging out of the white vest he was wearing, his neck bedecked with gold chains and he wore stacks of matching rings on his fingers. He had a constantly furrowed brow, and a red beard just a shade or two lighter than his own hair.

Character chosen, he tapped the device on the side of his head just like Josh told him to do. That elasticity returned to him again, the controller limp in his grasp and it felt as though it disappeared from his hands altogether. The whole room disappeared, and he was now stood in that alley. No longer blurred, but dripping with the water of leaking pipes and faulty drains. There was a faint smell of garbage in the air, and although the alley was dim the walls seemed to glow with neon, nocturnal colours, reflecting the city humming in the background. Kyle looked at his hands, large and bejewelled. He patted his chest, registering his hulking form and wondered if this was how Bruce Banner felt when he transformed into the Hulk. He was a motherfucking superhero! At least he felt just as powerful as one.

"'Sup, dude?" A feminine voice asked.

Kyle looked up, and saw a tall woman standing a few feet away from him, wearing shiny, black thigh-high boots, and a dark denim mini skirt. One manicured hand was placed on her generous hip, and she was smirking, arching an eyebrow at him. She was formidable, but not really, when Kyle knew the person behind the avatar. He laughed.

"That's the character you picked?"

"Damn, so sexist, Kyle! Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't destroy you!"

Kyle scoffed.

"I'd like to see you-"

Cartman interrupted him with a roundhouse kick to the chest. It sent him flying into garbage bags, and he must have blacked out because the alley seemed to be whirring, blurry again in his vision. He was certainly winded, and he staggered as he tried to get up, still disorientated. Cartman was uncaring, still standing in a squared-off stance with his fists raised.

"That's not fair!" he managed to get out. "I don't even know how this-"

Cartman interrupted him again with left and right hooks to his face. Kyle stumbled, head spinning faster, he put a hand to his nose that was definitely knocked out of place. The blood running out of his nostrils only proved that.

"What the fu-"

"Don't be a pussy!" Cartman laughed. "Everything resets."

With that, Kyle's nose made a satisfying cracking sound, popping right back into place and the blood disappeared, not even caked into his beard.

"See?"

"Holy shit..." Kyle whispered, stroking his nose in disbelief.

"So come on, Paul, give me your best shot-"

Kyle dished out an uppercut of his own. It sent Cartman stumbling backwards, seething and slightly dishevelled only for a minute before he retaliated with a kick to Kyle's chin. Kyle blocked him, grabbing his ankle and pushing his leg back. Kyle gritted his teeth as he fought against the inertia, seething and sweating. He saw his aggressive concentration mirrored on Cartman's face; the glowering stare, the curled, snarling lip, and reddened face. He pushed Cartman's knee so far back it was almost touching his face, his skirt riding up so all of his thigh was exposed. The sight made Kyle's breath catch in his throat a little, an unusual spark rubbing up against the pleasure he always took in competition. He loved those basketball games where the team they were playing were just as good. It was always more fun if the scales were equally tipped, if the chances of losing are stark. But he never felt this hot, catching sensation in his gut. He swore he saw something similar flash in Cartman's eyes before he threw him to the floor.

He pinned him to the ground before he could get back up, holding his wrists down and straddling him. The clock was running out, and Cartman didn't make any attempts to beat him. They stared at each other, panting, and mouths turning upwards into challenging, knowing smiles though Kyle had no idea what the hell was going to happen next. But the chest heaving below him, the sweet, damp breaths pouring out of Cartman's mouth, and the body between his thighs made his gut clench with that white-hot feeling. He was glad when round two began, forcing them off each other and back to their starting positions.

Kyle cleared his throat, copied Cartman's squared-off stance, and let the short distance between them dispel any awkwardness.

"I'm gonna fuck you up, dude..."

Kyle chuckled. One, because he was buzzing with competitiveness and two because it was inexplicably funny to him to hear the admittedly seductive voice of this hot, blond chick talk like Cartman.

"Oh, like you did in the last round?" he teased.

"I was going easy on you..."

Kyle wasn't going to offer the same supposed courtesy to Cartman. He dealt a few quickfire hooks to his face, his fists and Cartman's face blurring. Cartman blocked him, crossing his palms and holding them in front of his face. It was a move that threw Kyle backwards, bewildered and disorientated once again. But when another roundhouse kick was coming his way, Kyle was able to block it. He didn't try to push Cartman back again, not wishing to recreate that strange, charged moment. Instead, he simply grabbed Cartman's leg and shoved it away from him, utilising the swiftness afforded to a video game character to twist Cartman's body around and place him in a chokehold.

His nails were as sharp as fucking talons as they clawed into his arms, and Kyle was spluttering as he tried to get bits of blond hair out of his mouth. It was only when Cartman began to gasp and gag did he soften his grip, slowly releasing the pressure on his windpipe. He knew there were no physical repercussions, but it sure did feel like it sometimes. Kyle may have wanted to win this fight, and this was a hugely satisfying way of expressing his anger, but he didn't want to kill Cartman. He may have felt like the bane of Kyle's life sometimes, but that didn't mean he wanted any real harm-

Kyle was flipped over onto his back, landing on the ground with a loud huff, and his back definitely felt like it was shattered. He couldn't move, and a grin was stretched right across Cartman's face when he straddled him, pinning his helpless wrists to the ground. But the round was far from over, and the painful spasms in Kyle's back soon subsided. He smiled, shoving Cartman onto his side and rolling on top of him. His eyes flaring with incredulity, his creased brow, and pouting lip was enough to make Kyle cackle.

"That's bullshit, man!" he cried. "I pinned you!"

"The round isn't over yet-"

Kyle interrupted himself with a huff when Cartman pinned him to the ground. He snarled at his pleased, smirking face, determined to dash it. So he did, rolling over and pinning him again. The timer soon ran out, the round coming to a close and Kyle had no idea who won, and after all that he found himself not caring too much. They continued to roll around, huffing, and growling, and panting on the grimy floor and Kyle didn't care too much about that either.

They were actually laughing, their bodies thrumming with giddy chuckles when they relented, breathless, with Cartman's thighs either side of Kyle's hips. His face was full of blond hair and he didn't splutter to get it away from lips, or brush it out of his eyes. Cartman's face was buried in his neck, hot breath against his skin. He felt his lips widen into a smile. Kyle blinked, and because this was so insane and it had all been ridiculously gratifying, he let himself smile too. They gathered their breaths and the beat passed with it. Cartman pulled back, staring at Kyle with wide, contemplative eyes and parted lips that had him catching his breath all over again. His skirt was riding up, and Kyle balked when he realised his hands were high on Cartman's now bare thighs. Before he could say anything - or even think of anything to say - Cartman was leaning down, and pressing his lips to his. It was a hot, sloppy kiss, their exhausted mouths smushing together and Kyle's eyes drifted shut, giving into the soft, plush feeling of the lips hugging his own.

He felt Cartman's lips part against his with a shuddering, sultry breath and it felt just as lovely as his eyelashes, nose, mouth against his neck, and so he let Cartman's tongue swipe against his lips, inviting him in. Tongues met, and Kyle melted. His shoulders drooped, and that hot, wrenching feeling in his stomach melted with it, spreading warmth all over him. He propped himself up, wanting more, tilting his head and shivering at the tiny, glistening gasp that left Cartman's mouth when he did so. He reached up, brushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear. He traced Cartman's jawline with his fingers and brushed his thumb against his cheek.

It was then that the realisation of who he was actually kissing shook loose, dropping into the pit of his stomach, and he froze instead of melted.

"No..." he murmured, eyes slowly opening. He saw Cartman's dark, lidded eyes staring back at him and shoved him away.

"No!" he yelled, scrambling backward while Cartman sat, trembling. "No, what the fuck?!"

Cartman didn't reply, eyes wandering the floor before he looked at Kyle, eyes now blown wide with panic.

"Exit game!" he cried, vanishing.

CARTMANBRAH has left the game.

Kyle stared at the message, panting, and clueless, and he had no idea what the fuck just happened, or what to do now. But he knew what he felt, and he knew that he was livid.

"Cartman!" He yelled. "Cartman, what the hell did you..." he stopped, gathering his breaths when he realised it was useless. "Exit game!"

He was brought back to reality, chest heaving, and he was gasping on his bed like he had been pulled from rocky waters. He growled, ripping the Universum from his temple and throwing it on his nightstand. He flopped back onto the sheets, bringing his hands to his burning face. He felt like he should scream, or throw up. The latter seemed the most obvious, as he was riding out wave after wave of revulsion. But when his hands slid away from his face, he looked down to find a boner in his sweats.