He sagged against the wall as Stan dropped his things at the doorway. His cool hand found Kyle's forehead.

The crispness and familiarity of his skin felt good against his foggy mind.

"Are you hungry?"

Kyle shook his head. Stan kicked off his shoes and walked with Kyle until they reached the bed.

"You don't have to treat me like a girl. I'm not fragile." Kyle muttered sardonically.

"Sorry. Habit."

No matter how many times they did this, the awkward air still didn't seem to vanish. Stan pulled Kyle into his chest.

Inhaling, Kyle smelled a woman's perfume.

"You were with someone..."

"I was."

"You shouldn't have left." Despite his words, Kyle's body began to tremble with the contact of someone else. He hated it.

"Well, I can't leave you like this, can I?"

Here came the guilt.

Stan was truly a good friend. Better than he could ask for. It was in university this had all started. He'd been desperate, and he'd begged for help. Stan hadn't turned him away.

He felt Stan stiffen against him. He knew his pheromones must have been affecting him.

Silently Stan's hand unzipped his zipper. Kyle pressed against him, their routine set. They wouldn't talk anymore from now on. They wouldn't look at each other either.

Kyle pressed his face deep into Stan's chest, ever smelling that perfume and knowing he'd have to stop this comfort soon. Stan needed to move on with his life, and the biggest obstacle to that was Kyle.

Stan's hands tentatively circled the both of their erections. Kyle reached for Stan's arms, his fingers digging in. He bit his lip, hard, to make sure not to make a sound. Neither of them did.

His hands led the both of them slowly further, both slick against one another.

The heat built in Kyle's body. He could feel his skin was flushed from his own pounding heart and from the heat slipping through Stan's sweater. He pressed his head harder into Stan's chest, his breath coming ragged as he came closer and closer to his release. His hips wanted to move, but he checked them, still not able to forget it was one of his childhood friends jerking him off. Instead he silently endured the hot wave as it built and eventually crested, crashing through his body and spilling from his tip.

On his stomach he felt a mix of his own cum and that of Stan's.

They panted together for a moment – enough time for each of them to recover enough. Grabbing a wad of tissues Kyle began to clean up, not daring to look up at Stan. It was an odd thing to admit, but at moments like these Kyle could describe the intimate physical parts of his friend, but couldn't say a single thing about his face or expression.

"I'll go make some coffee." Kyle mumbled before pulling on some cotton pajamas and shuffling to the kitchen.

"I'll clean up." Stan said, headed for the bathroom.

Exhausted, but calmed, Kyle found energy enough to change the soiled sheets before falling back into them.

He turned on the tv, searching for something they'd most likely seen, but that was sufficient enough to distract from the mood of the room.

His phone buzzed. Kyle reached for it as his eyes continued to scan Netflix. Looking at the screen with squinted eyes he saw,

'Nichole:

It was too bad we didn't...'

'Shit.' He put Stan's phone back on the table. Though it was only a push notification fragment, Kyle felt uneasy about having looked at Stan's messages.

"Coffee's ready" Kyle mumbled when Stan finally came out of the bathroom.

Returning with two mugs, Stan sat as Kyle picked the first thing that he scrolled by.

"Sorry..." Wrapping his hands around the mug he tucked his feet beneath him.

"Cuz it's cheap coffee? I don't care about that." Stan shrugged.

"Sorry to make you come here so often."

Stan raised an eyebrow, but was quiet for a while. Finally, carefully he asked,

"What's on your mind?"

Kyle couldn't meet his eyes. He couldn't help but feel he was singlehandedly destroying Stan's love life. It wasn't as if he was getting any younger. It would only get harder the longer he waited. But admitting that would have been admitting to snooping.

"Is it all the work stuff?" Stan suggested.

"Yeah." He lied. "I don't think I succeeded in any of my interviews." He settled lamely.

"You'll find something. You were one of the only kids who actually did all their homework."

Kyle laughed at the idea. He wondered if grades mattered much anymore. "Yeah, hopefully I will."

As they sipped on their decaf, and half watched the movie, nothing more was said. When it finally finished Kyle asked, "Did you want to crash here?" As usual.

"I'd better get going." Stan replied, as usual.

"Okay, I'll see you later then."

"Yeah... I'll see you later."

But Kyle knew, and he'd already decided this would be the last time with Stan. He had stepped in to save him too many times now. Kyle was grateful, but as a person and as a man he wanted to stop causing trouble for the people around him. He wanted to be able to support others, and have them able to rely on him for once. He was tired of being a burden.

'I'll figure something else out. I'll have to.'

"I'm very sorry, there's been a medical issue. I need to reschedule the interview today."

"Okay, are you available tomorrow or the day after?"

"The day after, on Friday, that works best."

Kyle fanned himself, feeling hot. His head still felt hazy.

"How does 9:00 am work for you?"

"9:00's great, I will see you then."

Collapsing on his bed he didn't know what was wrong with him. He had indulged his heat yesterday, but it felt like it had only half vanished. He was uncomfortably warm, and felt like he could rub a few off.

Instead he grabbed his phone.

"The only thing I can tell you now is that it's probably an external influence. You're highly susceptible to others' cycles as your own is not regulated with suppressants. You've been meeting a lot of new people so perhaps it's simply an overload of your system." The doctor's voice was calm, but at a loss.

"I can't keep going on like this though! If I can't even make it to interviews I'll never be able to find a job."

"I have a few options. You can stop by my office at noon today, I'll explain them to you."

"This will help the most with day-to-day interactions. It's an older method we used before suppressants were developed, but it's still used today thanks to allergies. It's a little uncomfortable but it's to be worn with a mask. You spray this on here and wear the facemask. It should block out the smell of alpha pheromones." Demonstrating, he handed the mask and small spray bottle to Kyle. It was a little much, but he was desperate at this point.

"The other... I'm hesitant to give you."

"How come?"

"This has been developed recently. It's a very strong suppressant for omegas with resistant heats. They're trying to improve it but at the moment, it's very hard on the system. You take one at the onset of symptoms, and only one per heat period. You understand right?"

Kyle felt a twinge of annoyance flare inside him, but knew the doctor had his reasons. The non-perception pills he had taken in high school were the whole reason why he currently lived with his condition. It had bought him 4 peaceful years, before cursing him with a lifetime of unstable heats unaffected by normal suppressants.

"I know better than that now. I won't take more than I'm allowed." He already regretted what had happened. No one knew more than himself how much of an idiot he had been. He had no idea what was in those pills. The thought chilled him now. Things were bad, but they could have been worse – a lot worse.

"Okay. Then take these. Give me a call whenever you need more of either."

"Thank you. I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice."

"Take care Kyle. And be careful."

His phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Kyle," Cartman's typical snide tone was still as grating as it was back in school. "You finally picked up."

"Why're you of all people calling me?" Kyle grumbled.

"Why to tell you the results of your interview - personally."

"Screw off." Kyle ended the call. Hearing Cartman gloat over him not getting hired? No thank you. It was still way too early in the day for that grade of bullshit.

His phone rang again. Looking at the tell-tale C & C he ignored the call.

Slipping his phone into his pocket it rang again. He let it ring out this time, gritting his teeth until the small apparatus stopped vibrating.

Then it jumped to life again.

"Fuck, Cartman, take a hint will you?" He snapped after finally accepting the call.

"'Ey! Who the hell do you think you're speaking to!?"

"Look if you want to gloat, just get it over with and stop bothering me. I have shit to do." Crossing his arms, he felt a mounting pressure in his head.

"I was calling because I want to hire you."

Kyle guffawed.

After he calmed down he sighed, "Riiiight."

"You may think it's a joke Kyle, but I'm being completely serious here." With the tone of his voice, Kyle felt himself swayed. He sounded authentic...

'No, no, absolutely not! How many times has he done this to you?' Kyle slapped his palm to his forehead; he could instantly recall at least five with cringe-worthy embarrassment. He knew there were countless more instances.

"Of course, I do know about your condition, which makes it hard to hire you for the position you applied for."

'Here it comes.'

"Instead, I'd like you to work as my secretary."

'Huh?'

"Your secretary?" Kyle repeated dumbly. It was out of left field, but Kyle still wasn't buying it. The thought of having to serve Cartman directly was enough to make him grimace in disgust.

"Yes, flexible hours, sometimes able to work from home. You'll be well compensated of course."

"Be serious Cartman. You might get a kick out of it, but not me. You'd never willingly hire an omega. Especially not an omega, Jew that also happens to be ginger."

"...ugh. It's an omega exclusive position as part of Companies of the Future, so I'm willing to overlook the glaring other things."

"No thanks." He responded immediately. Despite trying to squash any hope that had grown, he still felt disappointed. The feeling made him despise himself all the more.

"You may think I'm fucking with you Kyle, but I'm not. Get back to me before next week. The job's yours if you want it. You won't find another opportunity like this. Many omegas would kill to have this call."

"Got it." Kyle hung up.

"What a joke."

"How was your interview today?" Ike grinned as he saw his brother.

"Ughhh, don't remind me."

"That bad?"

"I... ugh, my heats been really messed up lately. It's been coming at weird times. So I got some medicine from the doc. I thought I'd try out the strong stuff today. I really underestimated how tough it would be on me."

"What happened?"

"The interviewers were more concerned with my appearance than my answers. I ended up puking in their bathroom even. I don't even think I finished the interview."

"It's that bad!? How do people even use it?"

"Well... I took it on an empty stomach so that might have... "

Ike shook his head, drinking his beer.

"How are you doing? You look even worse than the last time I saw you. You're not overworking yourself are you?"

Ike looked down for a second, the condensation from his beer running down the glass and pooling on the table.

"It's nothing... just... busy. There's been a lot of work to do. But I'm fine."

"If you're ever having a hard time, don't be afraid to call me. I'll figure out a way to help you."

For a moment, it looked like his little brother was going to say something. But it passed and a second later was replaced with a smile.

"Thanks."

Finishing up their meal, they said their goodbyes outside of the restaurant. As Ike walked away Kyle watched him.

Ever since he'd moved away he had talked less and less about himself and the family. It'd been awhile since Kyle had actually gone back to visit...

"What..?" A man from the street slung his arm around Ike.

"Who the hell is he?" Kyle didn't like the look of this guy. Sunglasses even though it was dark out, a tight-fitted suit jacket with a gaudy shirt underneath - this guy reeked of bad business.

Kyle began to tail them, weaving in and out of the crowd to get closer to them. He saw the two of them duck into an alley.

"I'm going to need half of it by tomorrow."

"I... I don't have that kind of money right now. I can keep paying little by little." Ike had his hands stuffed in his pockets, his feet shuffled.

"I'm going to be out of town, so I need to gather this before I go. We'll have to get it one way or another, you know."

"Get what?" Kyle stepped in with them.

Sunglasses didn't look surprised.

"Who's this?" Kyle asked.

"You should leave." Ike told him, a dark look coming across his face.

"Not likely. What's going on Ike? Who's this guy?"

"Ah, is this the brother?" Sunglasses' cheshire grin grew.

"What does he owe?" Kyle snapped.

"$100 000 by tomorrow."

"What?"

"$100 000." He repeated.

"I heard! How does he owe so much?!"

Sunglasses looked to Ike who suddenly looked the years older.

"Dad left."

"What...? When? And why?!"

"We don't know... he just left. No note, no anything. It was half a year ago."

"... but just that alone shouldn't..."

"Mom got sick too. It's nothing serious. She couldn't work for a while, but once she got medicine, she was fine. She has to keep taking it now..."

Kyle finally realized. "You're living in residence, mom would be paying for the house, and dad was supposed to be paying for me." He stared at Ike, his eyes accusing.

"So I covered for you." Ike turned his heated glare towards the ground. "I didn't want you to be more stressed about this. You just started to be cool again. So sue me for wanting my brother back. I was going to tell you later anyways." Ike shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. "I had a side gig going for a bit, but that flopped too."

Kyle felt cold. He had always been the responsible one - the one people relied on. But everything had changed, and now even his own brother didn't trust him enough to ask for help. The thought struck him like an icy slap to the face. Was he that pathetic that his little brother had to take care of him?

"How much does he owe?"

"With interest rate, now it's about... $200 000."

"He has to pay half his total sum by tomorrow? That's ridiculous!"

He shrugged.

"We're a small company. We make it clear when we lend. Anyways if you can't come up with it by tomorrow, we'll take your organs instead." He said nonchalantly to Ike.

"You won't." Kyle growled.

"How gallant. Do you have that kind of money sitting around?" He inched closer, sniffing.

"Or if you'd like to exchange yourself for your brother I can introduce you to a good paying job. You wouldn't lose your organs, but you might have to take a couple in."

"Oooh my, what a glare! Well, I'll leave you two to discuss. Do have something ready by tomorrow. Take care!" And he was off into the night, leaving the Broflovski brothers to stew in a heavy silence.

"You don't have to do any-"

"I said I'll handle it." Kyle chewed his lip.

"Well Kyle, the decision is yours."

Kyle sat across from Cartman in a cozy booth at a mom and pop shop. The day was pleasant – a stark contrast to the deep shadows and lines of Kyle's expression.

It was no ordinary work contract in front of him. It reeked of something more sinister. Anything that legally bound him to Eric Cartman wasn't to be trusted.

"If you accept, the money's yours and Ike's debt is paid."

Kyle's mouth felt dry. The pen next to his hand seemed to leer at him. Everything he had ever known of Cartman was screaming at him to leave. That whatever the sick son of a bitch could think up would be a thousand times worse than whoring himself out. He tried desperately, wringing his mind for a miraculous idea to save him.

"Tick tock Kyle. We don't have all day here."

None came.

He sighed in resignation. There wasn't any choice. There never had been.

He reached for the pen.