A/N: Okay this will most likely be the last chapter before we start gettin' into the dirty stuff, which I know is the only reason y'all are here. Don't worry, no shame, I'd be in the same boat pft.

But ya know, cohesive narratives are necessary and all that boring stuff. Gonna get into some Kyle exposition since...well this goddamn story revolves mostly around him and I haven't touched much base on him mentally yet pft. Good job, me.

Enjoy~

He let the door slam behind him, looking around his empty apartment and letting out a long sigh. The plastic grocery bags dangling off of his arms were straining his muscles, the weight bearing down even heavier with every time his mind reminded him that Cartman of all people paid for them. The tired redhead walked into the kitchen and hurriedly threw the bags on the table, sliding his arms out of the plastic rings and rubbing his skin gently. His eyes flickered to the calender on the wall beside the fridge. Tuesday. He had three days left. It was like the worst countdown in the world for him. He had no idea just what kind of people Cartman would be pitting him against. He shuddered, reaching into a bag and beginning to grab at random items to put away.

He couldn't help but feel utter disgust with himself. Being sold as a plaything by his arch enemy of all people. It was definitely something he never thought would happen when he found himself at the top of his class in high school. He knew he was smart, he knew that he deserved better than the crap hand he was dealt with. Eighteen year old Kyle would be throwing a fucking fit if he knew just what his future self ended up becoming. He sighed again, throwing pounds of chicken and hamburger into the freezer and fridge.

He also knew that it didn't matter at this point. No matter how much potential he had, it didn't make money just fall out of the sky. He chuckled humorlessly to himself as he reminded himself that his job was now indeed to 'make it rain'. A small meow perked his ears and he glanced at the archway, smirking at his and Kenny's cat.

"Hey, Doodle," he greeted him. The cat bounded onto a chair and rubbed against his arm and he chuckled. "Yes, I remembered you at the store you little ingrate," he patted him, searching through bags and pulling out a small container of wet food. "Been forever since we could get you an actual treat," he said, scratching behind his ear and listening to his purring, feeling a warmth radiating in his chest. He loved the cat to death, ever since Kenny had brought him home after he found him on the street one day. He knew in the back of his mind that having a pet was just another expense, but between the way Doodle curled up against him the minute they met and the way that Kenny's eyes were pleading with such a wonderfully child-like innocence as he asked if they could keep him, there was just no way he could put him back on the street.

"C'mon," he jerked his head, walking over to his food bowl. Doodle followed him eagerly as he popped the top off the food and dumped it atop his kibble. "Eat up," he said, watching amusedly as he did just that, practically diving his face down into it. Kyle gave a pat on his back, grimacing as he felt a small matt in the confines of his thick fur. Brushing the damn thing every day just never mattered anymore. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he made his way back to his groceries, chuckling at the ideal that only Kenny would find a goddamn Maine Coon and not one that was easier to maintain. But that was maybe the only thing for Kyle that Kenny had never made easy.

He loved that about him, how even in the worst of situations that they had somehow landed in, Kenny could still make him smile. If it was anyone else, he probably just wouldn't be able to make it through the day. However, he knew that he was breaking Kenny down and he was disgusted over it, more so with that than the fact that he fucked people for money could ever make his stomach churn. Kenny was always possessive of him, in the good way, he hated when other people hugged Kyle or touched his hair or anything that the blonde considered intimate. He always felt as though that was his privilege and his alone; and Kyle was inclined to agree. He hated what Kenny had to watch him doing, often begging him to just leave the room and let him get it over with. But the blonde was fiercely protective of him, it was rare that he'd ever let him go out alone with people unless they already knew who it was Kyle was dealing with. Even before the whole mess had started, even when they were sneaking around everyone and hiding how they felt about each other, Kenny had always had the strong instinct to protect him. Kyle accepted it, though he knew he was more than capable of handling himself. Kenny was the only person allowed to treat him as though he could break at any moment without unleashing the redhead's fiery wrath. It was never a bad thing to feel so loved, especially for so long.

He sighed to himself, remembering how ungracefully Stan had learned about how long the two of them had been together. He hated the fact that he'd lied to his best friend for so long, but he knew that Stan would have had major reserves if he knew that instead of always studying like Kyle told him he was, he was making out with Kenny back behind City Wok. Besides, he knew Ken was right, Stan would have let on to his parents that the two of them were a couple if he'd known back in high school.

He groaned as his parents flashed through his mind. He didn't know what to think of the two of them. He knew if he'd picked nearly any other guy in the world, they wouldn't have cared less. But no, he had to fall for someone who had redneck parents and not a penny to his name, and somehow, to his mom and dad, that made Kenny 'not good enough' to be considered part of the Broflovski clan. He snorted, looking around at their apartment. If only they could see how he was living now, how now he was the lowest of the low, lower than even Kenny's parents with how he was making money at all. Kyle much rather would be selling drugs than his body, but he didn't know the first thing about any of that, and apparently Kenny had already been caught doing that so he didn't particularly want to spend time in jail, either.

He continued shoving cans and boxes into cabinets, marveling at the sight of food actually being in the house. He was so used to nothing but ramen and tap water anymore. Seeing boxes of pasta and jars of soup was like a fervent dream of memories past anymore, and he couldn't help but cringe guiltily, knowing that Kenny had grown up with that kind of lifestyle. He couldn't help himself for yearning for more though, it was how he'd been raised. He always had food and electricity and heat growing up, the fact that he and Kenny had their periods where they had to choose which ones were more important did nothing short of drive the boy stark-raving mad. He bit his lip, looking over at the clock. 2:30. Kenny had gone back to the factory for a second interview and Stan was giving him a ride while Kyle went and got food. His chest pounded excitedly, a second interview usually resulted in good things. He was so proud of the blonde he could hardly contain himself before the boy walked out of the door behind Stan. He'd childishly thrown his arms around him and shaken him and pure excitement before he left, and Kenny gave him that smile that only Kyle could ever receive and he relished in it.

Another meow tore his attention from shoving empty bags into one another, looking back and finding Doodle staring up at him expectantly. He snorted, "Yeah, I got you more but you're not having more than one a day, Buddy. We don't need you getting fat on us, you're big enough." He tossed the empty bags under the sink and walked into the living room, Doodle plodding behind him. He fell down onto the couch with a heavy sigh, oofing as the cat jumped up onto his lap. He chuckled, running his fingers through the thick fur as he lied down on his thighs, purring and curling his paws towards each other. "Spoiled little shit," he rolled his eyes, sighing and leaning his elbow onto the arm of the couch, resting his cheek in his palm. His fingers mindlessly scratched along Doodle's back, tracing over one of the stripes that had inspired Kenny to decide on his name.

"It looks like someone took a paintbrush and just doodled all the fuck over him!" He could remember Kenny shouting excitedly as Doodle had been chewing on the edge of their rug as they tried to decide what to call him. "We either name him Doodle or motherfucking Carpet Muncher, Kyle. You choose which." Kyle couldn't help but burst into laughter at the memory, prompting the cat to give him an annoyed look before turning his attention back in front, shutting his eyes to the feeling of Kyle's slender fingers tousling through his fur.

"You're lucky, ya know," he said softly, smiling at him fondly. "All you have to worry about is going in the damn litter box and how often we feed you. You don't have to worry about money," his smile dropped slowly along with his heart. "You don't have to be a whore just so you and Ken can eat. You don't have to be the absolute worst thing in the world just because the bills won't pay themselves..." he trailed off and sighed exhaustedly. "You don't have to be what you hate so much," he whispered, twiddling a bit of fur between his index and middle finger. "You think I'll ever get out of this, Doodle?" he asked him. "Most people my age are at school or married or...doing something that isn't so bad, ya know?" he shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. "I mean, goddamn. I'm twenty one and haven't had a real job in fucking eight months. And I fucking sleep with people who are usually twice my age...I haven't slept with Kenny in so goddamn long I don't even remember what it's like anymore..." he threw his head back against the back of the couch, his eyes drooping sadly. "I wonder if he considers leaving me over it," he said softly.

He shut his eyes, his mind playing back vivid memories of how he and Kenny had started out. How Kyle had never done anything with anyone and was a complete nervous wreck, how patient Kenny had been with him, waiting a good year and a half until Kyle was ready to take it further than just making out like crazy for hours on end. How sweet he'd been about it, how he made sure that every move was okay on Kyle's end before proceeding. He treated him like a delicate artifact, something that Kyle appreciated as completely shaky as he'd been over the entire scenario. And then he remembered how after that first night, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Handjobs in the school bathroom, fucking like crazy in Kenny's house since his parents were never around, entire weekends spent naked in each other's arms. Kyle's chest twisted guiltily as his eyes creaked back open, feeling a small sheen of stinging tears glistening over his irises. It was too much.

He missed Kenny's arms more than anything. He missed the utter connectivity that they had, how fierce and passionate it had been right up until that first blowjob for a measly fifty dollars one night. Then Kyle just couldn't bring himself to be like that with his boyfriend anymore. He tried. He tried so hard sometimes to just move over and make Kenny remember with him just how well they fit together. But images of Kenny's broken face after he fucked a stranger, the taste of unfamiliar men on his tongue re-emerging, visions of the fact that he let others touch him...they held him back. A part of him was terrified, absolutely livid with the idea that Kenny looked at him like nothing more than a whore, and sleeping with him again would make those thoughts so adamant that the blonde would just pack up and leave at the very idea of touching him again. Kyle knew that was a stupid notion to have, he knew well enough that Kenny loved him with everything he had. However, the constant guilt that pressed down into him did nothing but dissuade him from making that move, regardless of how bad he wanted to.

He sniffled, wiping the unshed tears from his eyes. He looked back down, his vision falling on the list Cartman had left him, still untouched. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He just couldn't hand Eric Cartman over a list of things that he was cool with in the bedroom, especially considering his fairly extensive list. Being with the same person for six years led to a lot of experimentation, and Kyle was fairly fond of things far from vanilla. The idea of Cartman knowing about his turn-on's was just something that he didn't want to happen. It would just end up being another thing that the fatass could hold over his head, like he didn't have enough ammo against the poor guy already.

"What a mess, Doodle," he whispered, shaking his head and petting the cat softly. "This is all too much...and now all four of us are involved and...fuck what a mess," he whimpered. Doodle let out a small chirp at his voice and pushed his head up against Kyle's hand. The redhead laughed a bit, continuing to stroke over his forehead gently. "Lucky, lucky shit," he smirked sadly. They both jolted at the sound of the door opening, watching it fly open to reveal Kenny with a large grin on his face.

Kyle's mouth slowly returned the expression, "Please tell me that smile means what I think it means."

He nodded excitedly, "I got the job!"

Kyle quickly threw Doodle onto the cushion beside him much to the cat's dismay and leaped off the couch, running over and throwing his arms around the blonde. "Holy fuck holy fuck I can't believe it!" he screamed into the boy's chest, feeling the strong arms wrapping back around him tightly.

"I told you I felt good about it!" Kenny grinned, nuzzling into Kyle's hair excitedly.

"Okay okay, either in or out you two," Stan snorted, standing outside behind Kenny with a bemused expression as he watched the two of them.

Kenny and Kyle made their way towards the couch, never relinquishing their embrace and falling onto the cushions together. "I'm so proud of you, Ken," Kyle beamed.

He chuckled and kissed his lips deeply, "I'm proud of me, too." He winked and ruffled Kyle's hair a bit.

Stan closed the door and walked in, plopping down into their chair and smiling at the two of them, "Ky, you know what this means, right?"

Kyle nodded, a devious glint in his eyes. "I don't have to be a fucking whore, that's what it means!"

"Damn straight," Kenny said, grabbing his cell phone out of his pocket. "We're gonna call Cartman right the fuck now and tell him the deal is fucking off." He quickly scrolled through names and clicked on Cartman's putting it on speaker and smugly nuzzling into Kyle. He kissed his head as it rang and grinned at the boy. "I told you I'd save you from this bullshit."

"I knew you would," he smiled gratefully at him, kissing his cheek and huddling into his side as they stared at the phone.

"I'm a busy man, Po'Boy, this better be good," Cartman answered.

"In fact, it's great," Kenny said snidely. "Kyle doesn't have to be your whore, so you can just take your little gossipy secrets and your little auction for my boyfriend and shove them straight up your fat ass, you piece of shit."

A moment of quiet passed before the clear sound of a door shutting came through and Cartman chuckled a bit, "Oh? And just why doesn't he have to be my whore now?"

"Because Kenny got a job, that's why, Fatass," Kyle smirked, crossing his arms and looking at the phone with a quirked brow. "He's making money, therefore we're fucking safe and don't need me to be fucking old men just for petty change."

Another laugh, "Oh really? Just how much are you gonna be making, Kinny?"

"Nine dollars an hour," he scoffed. "Plenty enough."

"Hmmm you may wanna do the math on that one, Po'Boy. How many hours a week?"

Kenny froze, "Well...thirty."

"Kahl, you're a math whiz, fucking do the numbers for him, will you?"

Kyle blinked before grabbing his own phone out of his pocket and quickly typing in numbers. "Okay, nine dollars an hour for thirty hours a week times four weeks typically in a month...before taxes it's only about $1,080..." he bit his lip and looked at Kenny worriedly. "Ken...our rent is $650 a month...a-and that's not including electric and internet and food..."

Kenny's face fell drastically. "No, no, no, do not tell me what I think you're about to tell me."

"Looks like Kahl's gonna be working Friday night after all," Cartman chuckled. Kyle's form slumped and he stared at the carpet with glistening eyes. "Besides, it wouldn't have mattered if you were making thirty dollars an hour, Kinny. Kahl agreed if he got a real job, he was out automatically. Never said a damn thing about you in that little contract. And if he breaks the rules of said contract, well, remember that he's a fucking prostitute you dumbshit and I can get his scrawny Jew ass thrown in the slammer. Don't try to fuck around with me. Now, I have to get back to my real job, I don't have time to deal with you right now. Kahl, do the list and you can give it to me tonight, I'll stop by after work," he paused and let out another small laugh at their silence. "Sorry to crush your spirits...well not really," he snorted before the sound of him hanging up echoed around.

Stan watched sympathetically as Kenny and Kyle both sunk down into the couch, their hands intertwining as they stared blankly at the floor. "Fuck...Ky, I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," he said quietly. "I applied for about four jobs today...maybe I'll get really lucky and someone'll call me tomorrow..." he looked up at Kenny a bit, who looked back with defeated eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. "Dammit, if I was making two more goddamn dollars per hour we probably would've been fine."

"We still would be cutting it close," Kyle murmured, leaning over against him. Doodle plodded up between the two of them on Kenny's lap and they stared at him tiredly. "Goddammit. There was so much fucking hope for a second there."

He nodded, "Yeah. And now he knows I'm a fucking impulsive idiot and that's going to be held over my head for a long time," he rolled his eyes.

"Not as much as everything held over mine," Kyle replied. "And you're not an idiot. You just wanted so badly to get me out of this you got a little hasty," he looked up at him and gave him a gentle smile. "I definitely don't hold that against you."

Kenny gave him a sad smile and squeezed his hand, "Maybe you can get a callback, maybe I can find a second job. We still got three days...who knows?"

Stan watched the two of them, nodding slowly with their words. "Don't give up hope, you two. I'm sure things will work out."

Kyle sighed, turning on the couch and facing Kenny with another grin, "Regardless of the fact that it's not what we wanted...I'm still really proud of you."

He smirked and shrugged, "Woulda been prouder of me if I'd managed to snag a better paying job but...what're ya gonna do, ya know?"

"Right now," Kyle started, clasping both his hands around Kenny's, "We need to just take what we can get. Besides, that's $1000 a month to put back once Cartman's not paying our rent anymore. We can...we can save up and do something for us or something like that. I think that'd be nice, don't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah we'll save up a bit and maybe you and I can get away from here for a weekend or something."

Stan chuckled, "I think that'd do the two of you some good."

Kyle nodded in agreement, "I think..." he leaned back into the blonde and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I think that we should save up and go out to Denver or something. Somewhere not super expensive but also the complete goddamn opposite of South Park, ya know?"

Ken snorted and kissed his head, "God knows I hate this place. I'd rather lick Satan's taint than stay here the rest of my life."

"Me, too," Kyle muttered sleepily. "Especially considering how many fucking strangers I've had to pass on the street who know me a lot more intimately than I would like..." he sighed and shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. "And now there's going to be even more."

Kenny's shoulders sunk and he looked at Stan helplessly. "Thanks for taking me today," he said quietly. "Guess I need to look up bus pass prices," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

Stan shook his head. "Nah, Dude. Your shifts are always earlier than mine, I'll come and take ya. Just help me out with gas a little bit now and again and it's no problem."

"You sure?" he raised his brow.

He nodded, "Definitely. Buses smell like piss anyway," he shrugged. "I don't mind, gives us an excuse to hang out a little more," he smirked.

"I feel like we've been hanging out a lot the past few weeks," Kenny gave a small one back.

"Well hanging out under better circumstances, how's that?" he chuckled. Stan directed his attention over to the redhead still nuzzled into Kenny's side, noticing that he was taking deep breaths, as though smelling Ken and taking comfort in his scent. He couldn't say he'd be surprised, Kyle had a habit of doing so whenever he got stressed out. He had told him the year before that something about the way Kenny smelled always got him to calm down and re-evaluate his situations. Stan called him a raging faggot over that but anything to make him feel better was good enough at this point. The boy's green eyes opened and looked to the papers on the coffee table, Stan following his gaze. "So..." he started and the two on the couch looked at him. "What is that list exactly?" he asked.

Kyle sighed and that ever-present blush erupted through his cheeks once again, "Cartman gave it to me for customers," he rolled his eyes. "So whoever he sets me up with knows my boundaries I suppose."

Stan winced, "Well...that's...good?" he bit his lip. He had no idea how to respond to that. The situation was horrible, but the idea of Kyle not being forced into something else that made him feel unsafe or uncomfortable was a miniscule baby step towards the right direction.

Kyle sighed again and nodded, reaching over and grabbing the list, pulling a pen off the table as well. He and Kenny looked down, reading over it and Stan watched as the pen struck through a few listed. The redhead shuddered, "I can't believe I have to fucking specify that bestiality is not fucking okay."

Kenny just smirked a bit, pointing to the list, "You'd be okay with trying that with me?"

"Fuck off," he muttered, grimacing at the task at hand.

Stan watched the two of them confusedly, "Dude, Ken, you're okay with just watching this?"

"No, no I'm not," he muttered, looking up at him with tired blue eyes. "But it's what's happening, and I'd rather know just what it is Kyle's going to get himself possibly thrown into."

Stan nodded, "That makes sense..." he looked up at the clock on their wall and sighed, getting to his feet. "I gotta get to work. You two...try to be all right, okay?"

Kyle looked up at him and smiled softly, "We'll do our best."

"Call me if you need me," he waved, pivoting on his heel and heading towards their door.

"See ya, Stan," Kenny called after him. "Thanks again, Dude."

"No prob," he called out before walking out of the apartment. Ken and Kyle watched after him a few moments before looking back at each other.

"I'm still sorry," Kenny sighed, dropping his gaze to the list clutched in Kyle's hands. "Fuck I hate watching you do this."

"Well...it's where we are," Kyle shrugged. "And it is kind of nice that I don't have to worry about someone shitting on me or shoving curling irons up my ass or something..." he bit his lip. "Ken...we both know that this is inevitable lest I find another job, right?"

He tensed but nodded, "Yeah."

"Then help me do this list," he urged.

Ken raised his brow, "Ky, you know your kinks better-"

"Okay, one, that's a lie and you know it," he challenged. "You know my body better than I do. But two...I want you to tell me exactly which ones of these are your favorites to do with me."

"Why?" he cocked his head.

He blushed and cleared his throat, "Because...those are the things that I'll only do with you. Because something here needs preserved...and...if I get back to the point where I'm not so disgusted with myself I'm not racked with guilt having sex with you again...I don't want you to be there thinking I've done something particular with someone else. It'd be nice to have that separation between, for a lack of better term, work and home; to have something special reserved for just the two of us, you know?"

Kenny smiled a bit and nodded, "I'd like that...but Kyle, you need to not be so disgusted with yourself. I don't look at you when you're getting dressed or whatever and see everyone you've been with. I only see you, Dude."

He sighed, "Maybe you don't see them...but I do. They haunt me, Ken..." he trailed off a bit and stared down at Doodle still perched on Kenny's lap. "I just hope this all ends sooner rather than later, ya know? I want to go back to just being Kenny and Kyle. Not Kenny and Kyle and oh look there's a line a mile long of all the grown men that Kyle's fucked trailing behind them like a conga line because he's such a goddamn whore."

Kenny narrowed his eyes, "Kyle, fucking stop."

He looked at him with confused eyes, "What?"

"Stop calling yourself a whore, Dude. You're not. You're a desperate guy who's doing what they can to keep our little family afloat, okay? There's no shame in that."

He chuckled a bit and shook his head, "Ken...there's so much goddamn shame in this it's almost unbearable..." he put the list down and grabbed Kenny's hand tightly. "You're the only thing keeping me going at this point," he looked up at him with dulled eyes. "I don't know how or why you haven't left me."

"Because I love ya, ya fucking idiot," he scoffed. "I ain't gonna throw away six years of us just 'cause yer doin' this." He paused and cleared his throat. "I mean, you are doing what you can for us." he struggled out.

Kyle looked at him amusedly, "Why are you beating back your accent?"

He sighed exasperatedly, "Because I don't like being like my parents. I know you said you like the accent or whatever but I just can't-"

"Stop," Kyle put a finger on his lips and chuckled. "It's not the accent I like so much as what you say," he grinned sheepishly. "I get not wanting to be like your parents. Trust me, you know I'm in the same boat."

"Well you are unlike your folks," he shrugged. "You're poor for one thing, and you're a decent person who wouldn't throw someone out just for being not up to your standards..." he trailed off, looking away guiltily.

"Hey," Kyle said, grasping his chin and forcing his gaze back onto him. "You are up to my standards and that's all that fucking counts. We don't need my parents and we don't need yours. We're gonna make it just the two of us and leave them in the dust, all right? Those fuckers are all gonna regret not realizing how good they had it with us." Kenny grinned at him lopsidedly, leaning down and meeting his lips. Kyle threw the list beside him on the couch and wrapped his arms around Kenny's neck, pulling him in as close as he could manage. He pulled back slightly, still lingering on his lips with a smile. "I love you."

Kenny sighed happily, "Love you, too," he replied before taking his mouth once again. The two of them wrapped around each other, Kenny blindly shooing Doodle off his lap and pulling the boy in closer. For that moment, the list was forgotten, the complete rise and fall of emotions of earlier was left in their wake. They knew all they had was each other, and they were more than content with that in the silence of their home. It was all they had ever needed. For now, the impending countdown to Kyle's 'debut' was in the back of their minds, all that mattered was the two of them wrapped up in the warm embrace of each other's care.

A/N: So corny you know you love it.

Doodle's name was inspired by my mother ending some of our animals we have's name with it. Clark-a-doodle, Pudge-a-doodle, Buff-a-doodle. It's maddening. Poor Lewis and Namira feel left out pft. So they're Loo-loo and Moo-moo. Why you needed to know that Idfk I'm kinda drunk.

Next time will be Kyle's first -ahem- date. It's gonna be awkward as FUCK. You'll see what I mean mwahahahaha.

Thanks for R&Ring!