A/N: Now the fun task of Cartman explaining his game plan. Loootttsss of dialogue up in here.
Enjoy~
Kenny, Stan, and Cartman sat around Ken and Kyle's living room, listening to the shower down the hall. Kenny's finger tapped on his leg, staring at Cartman with a look that could kill. Cartman rolled his eyes after twenty minutes of his silent death glare, "Get your panties out of their bunch, Po'Boy."
The blonde growled, "Why. Garrison?" he spat.
He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, "He offered the most, I told you fuckers that already. And he was the easiest to dig shit up on so there you fucking go."
"How much did he offer?" Stan questioned irritably.
A smug smirk crossed his fat face and he chuckled, "Well let's wait for Kahl, hm? I'm sure he's the most interested in getting the payment."
They heard the water shut off from the bathroom and Kenny grumbled, getting to his feet and heading towards the kitchen. Stan watched after him before turning back to stare at the man looking way too pleased with himself. The walk back to the apartment had been beyond awkward, and Stan nearly wanted to punch himself in the face for the disgust he felt towards what Kyle had to do. He knew it wasn't the redhead's fault but that didn't stop the disturbing imagery of his imagination from getting way out of hand. It was silent and tense aside from Cartman slapping down Kenny's hands whenever he tried to hold onto Kyle. Kyle himself was fairly stoic. He didn't seem angry, humiliated, anything. He just seemed to be on a beeline to get back home as quickly as possible despite his still-wavering steps that Kenny and Stan had to help correct along the way.
"Cartman," he finally breathed out, waiting for the brunette to look back at him. "Why are you doing this to Kyle? You could've picked any fucking person off the street and done this to them."
He laughed, "Well one, because it's fucking Kahl. And two, I needed someone who had the experience already and the desperation. Lucky for me I found all that in the Jew."
His face twisted into a vicious glare, "Ken is going to kill you, ya know," he said lowly.
"I'd like to see him try," he raised his brow amusedly. "Besides, I didn't force Kahl to do a goddamn thing. I gave him an opportunity, and you know how much that Jewrat hates passing those up."
"He didn't have a fucking choice, Fatass!" he hissed. "Jesus fucking Christ you could have at least made it with someone he didn't fucking know!"
"Really? You really think he would've been better off with a complete stranger? One that he'd be drinking with and being exposed to, not knowing if he's dealing with some homicidal maniac?" he quirked his brow higher. "You think that would've been okay on the Jew's nerves, Marsh? Tell me, what would you have done?" he leaned back, folding his hands and looking at him expectantly.
Stan blinked at him, "I-I would've...found a stranger but...but checked out to see if...if uh-"
"Simple background checks don't tell you everything," he interjected. "Just because so-and-so doesn't have a criminal record, well, everyone has to start somewhere. And what better way to start a violent crime spree than with killing a hooker, someone that no one else knows that you're involved with, hm?"
Stan's mouth gaped like a guppy waiting for the hook. He didn't have the slightest idea of how to respond to that. He hated to admit it, but the guy had a point. "Is this what you're going to do, then?" he finally asked quietly, his eyes flickering towards the kitchen looking for Kenny. "Just set him up with people he knows?"
He shook his head, "No. The Jew will have more diversity now that he's had his first job. Things will be changing course from here on out, however."
He raised his brow inquisitively, "How?"
A low chuckle broke through, "Well let's wait for the others before we get into that, hm?"
Stan shifted uncomfortably on the couch, watching Cartman carefully. This just felt beyond wrong, sitting in his friends' living room discussing with their other friend how to whore one of them out. He sighed and leaned back into the cushions, redirecting his attention to the wall. A few weeks ago everything was so boring and simple, and he was so apathetic about it all. He couldn't help but wish he could go back to that point. He glanced up as Kyle emerged from the hallway in his pajamas, running a towel through his dripping hair. He lowered the fabric and shook his head, his hair turned blood red and plastered to his forehead.
"Great, you're still here," he rolled his eyes at Cartman, walking over and plopping down beside Stan.
"Well I figured you'd want to get paid, Jew," he scoffed.
"Just leave the money and go," he said irritably.
He shook his head, "No. Because I want to see your face when you see what your ass is worth in this bumfuck town," he grinned evilly.
Kyle looked at Stan with an expression that pleaded 'kill me now'. Stan smiled as reassuringly as he could muster, letting his hand rub Kyle's back comfortingly. "You doin' okay?" he asked.
"As well as I could I guess," he muttered, leaning his chin into his hand.
Kenny finally emerged from the kitchen, a mug in his hand. "Here, Ky, made ya some coffee. I know how you get after you drink," he smirked a little.
"You are my knight," Kyle laughed softly, taking the mug and sipping at it, letting out a long sigh. Kenny plopped down next to him and threw his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in possessively away from Stan. The noirette raised his brow at the action before just smiling a bit at the blonde. He had a feeling it'd always be like this. If he wasn't allowed to touch Kyle in public, then he'd be unable to keep his hands off of him at home. There was some reassurance in that, but he could more than tell that not being able to hold Kyle after his ordeal was killing the blonde.
"All right," Cartman smirked, getting up off the chair and beginning to pace. "Well, Kahl, how was your first endeavor?"
Kyle scowled from behind his mug. "Oh it was the night of my dreams, you sack of shit," he spat. "Never before have I been so motherfucking happy."
He sniggered, "Well good. I'm about to make it better. I want you to guess just how much money you made per hour with Garrison."
He rolled his eyes, "I don't know...four hundred?"
Cartman burst into hysteric laughter and the three of them recoiled a bit into the couch, watching his reaction confusedly. "Oh wow, you have no fucking idea what the hell you're doing, do you?"
Kenny growled, "Cartman, get to the fucking point!"
The brunette grinned and grabbed a large wad of bills out of his pocket. "Count it, Jew."
Kyle grumbled, placing his mug down onto the table and quickly whipping through the bills, his eyes widening with each twenty he passed by. He finished and looked up at Cartman with a gaping mouth, "This...this is fucking $2400!"
"WHAT?!" Kenny exclaimed looking down at the redhead in shock. "Are you sure?!"
"And that's already taking out my 40% and minus the $300 I gave you for food last weekend," Cartman raised his brow amusedly.
Kyle furrowed his brow, looking up in thought and gesturing his finger around, his mouth fumbling a bit. He stopped short and looked at the boy with widened eyes, "He...he paid $1500 an hour?!" he squealed.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Stan fell back into the couch, dumbfounded.
Cartman looked at the three of their bewildered faces and snorted. "Told you I'd get your ass auctioned off high, Jewboy."
"How the fuck did you- I mean no one even..." Kyle looked around the room, searching for his words, the money clasped in his hand desperately, like he expected someone to just come along and snatch it from him.
"We're going to run through some numbers, Kahl," he smirked. "I know you'll be able to keep up. Stan, Kinny, do your best," he shrugged. His insult wasn't even felt, both of them just staring at him expectantly. "It's all about averages," he said slowly. "Now, statistically, about five percent of a town has a gay population. South Park has roughly 5,000 people, and we can wipe out half of them being women and children. How many of the men are gay, Kahl?" he looked over at him.
He quirked his brow, thinking. "Uh...roughly...125 I think."
He nodded, "Good. Just assuming all of them are single, we know that about 20% of people are cool with paying for sex, which leaves us with..."
"25," he frowned. "But there's more than that in this town, Kenny and I fucking found them."
"Ah, that's why they're 'rough' numbers, Jew. Now pay attention." Kyle growled and grabbed his coffee, leaning back into Kenny's tight hold. Cartman continued, "You forget how utterly...let's say debauched this town is. Fuck, we had all the men in a giant fucking orgy once if you recall," he rolled his eyes. The three of them nodded in shame, remembering the way their fathers had been right in on that disaster. "This town seems very...fluid in sexuality, wouldn't you agree?"
Stan shrugged, "He's got a point. Seems like everyone's been fucked by every gender in this goddamn place."
"Exactly," Cartman placed his hands together and patted his fingertips. "And we're not the only ones who are more than aware of how retarded our police force is. We know all we have to do is blame it on the nearest black guy and we can get away with murder with those fucking retards in charge," he scoffed. Kyle looked ready to jump into an anti-racist rant before he shut his mouth, realizing that he was right. He just sighed tiredly, waiting for him to continue. "We have fucking bathhouses and gay clubs and that one bondage joint on the edge of town and all kinds of just plain sinful shit lyin' around, and just what kind of people tend to make up the majority of these faggoty clubs? What's your typical marital status for those establishments?" he looked at them all expectantly once more.
"Uh...single...people...?" Kenny guessed. "Me and Ky kinda haven't had to deal with that shit."
"Right," he nodded curtly. "Single guys looking for someone to fuck. And remember, they're single for a reason. Either they're just holding out for 'true love' like faggots, they don't want to be tied down, or they're pieces of shit that no one wants to be involved with."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Stan questioned.
He rolled his eyes, "Single guys are the most likely to pay for sex, you dumbshit."
"I feel like that's not right," Stan blinked.
"What?" Kyle snorted. "Dude, demographically speaking it goes single guys, married guys, then the girls following in the same way. How the fuck doesn't that seem right?"
He shrugged awkwardly, "Because I'm not one of those single guys?"
"Well you don't make up the population by yourself, Marsh," Cartman rose his brow. "I'm single, too and I wouldn't pay some dirty fucking whore."
Kyle glared at him, "Well no wonder you're still a virgin, then, Fat-tits. Lord knows it'd never be consensual with you."
He scoffed, "I'm not going to take a holier-than-thou-art bullshit session from a fucking hooker, so shut the fuck up and pay attention." Kyle sneered and he continued on, "Do you know how rare it is for there to be a gay hooker your age in a town this size, Kahl?"
"Craig said there were only three other gay ones in town," Stan said quietly. "And that two of them were over forty."
"And the other is thirty," Cartman finished with a smirk. "Kahl has the reins over the entire population that wants someone young."
"Oh lucky me," he rolled his eyes. "Glad to know I'm so fucking special."
"Oh that's not it," he laughed darkly, sitting back in the chair and staring at Kyle amusedly. "You're also the only one that is the one willing to be fucked."
They all raised their brows, "The fuck are you talking about?" Kenny asked.
He groaned and shook his head, "Fucking idiots. I mean Kahl's the only one willing to fucking bottom. That's what most of the men in this town fucking want. They want to still feel like 'men' even though they're fagging it up. They think that sticking their dick up another guy's ass somehow preserves their precious masculinity or some shit."
"Oh for the love of god do not talk about my place in the bedroom, Fatass," Kyle moaned embarrassedly, covering his eyes with his hand.
"Why not? It's my job to know just what it is you're doing," he smirked.
Kyle lowered his hand and stared at the brunette with anger sparking through his jade eyes. "All right, we went over fucking numbers or whatever. How the fuck did you convince people to pay that much?"
He shrugged, "I just told you. You're the only one that falls into a specific category. What do older straight men like?"
"...Older...women?" Stan guessed.
"Wrong," he shook his head. "They want that college freshman whose tits are still firm and their body isn't sagging yet. They want the youth. It goes the same with most gay men, too. They don't want to deal with another wrinkled hairy ball sac," he paused and snorted as the three of them scrunched their noses in distaste. "They want someone young, someone who makes them feel like they're in control. Kahl here is just what they're looking for."
Kyle shuddered and Kenny brought him in closer, putting the redhead on his lap. Kyle raised his brow at the action but settled as strong arms wrapped around his waist possessively, opting to run his free fingers through the blonde's hair. "That's still a lot of fucking money for them to be shelling out, Cartman," the blonde muttered from Kyle's side.
He nodded, "Because Kahl is a..." he looked up in thought. "Let's say a forbidden fruit. There's only one of him, and they all want a taste, so they're going to fight for it."
Kyle's brows furrowed, "Cartman, people can't be that interested in-"
"I'm gonna stop you right there," he held up his hand. "Remember, these clubs aren't full with people our age. They're there, for sure, but it's mostly the older generation who can't get with younger guys. If they're desperate enough for a fucking twink like yourself, they'll empty out their life savings for it if you're good enough."
"Okay, one, don't you ever call me a twink again," he growled furiously. "Two, no one fucking knew who I was, so why would they give so fucking much?!"
He shrugged, "Just takes good word of mouth, Kahl, that's all. You walk around your little clubs, you ask what people are into, you say you know someone who's the best at that one thing, and it just takes the fuck off. This town is nothing but gossips, you know that," he grinned. "Close-knit groups like that are the worst. I got your price up to $800 an hour within four days. That's why I extended how long before your first job. I knew I could get that fucker even higher by holding you out for longer. And now, Garrison's going to tell everyone just how good you were. He's going to be our walking advertisement. You all know as well as I do that he can never keep his mouth shut when he gets laid and enjoys it, one of the other reasons that he was selected to be your first," he chuckled.
Kyle looked down into his coffee cup and sighed, Kenny's fingers comfortingly stroking through his damp hair. Stan shifted uncomfortably, "So...is everyone going to be paying that much?" he asked.
Cartman shrugged, "Probably not. But your price is never going under $1000 an hour, Kahl, I'll tell you that much. And a lot of them are more than willing for that. It all depends on what that person wants out of the deal."
"Jesus Christ," Kyle whispered softly. Kenny leaned up and kissed his temple and the redhead gave him a small, forced smile. Kyle looked back over at Cartman and frowned. "Garrison...he said I didn't want to know how many people were...bidding for me," he shuddered. "But...I kind of do want to know."
"Well see now that's where it gets complicated," he chuckled. "It's not only South Park I've got you set up in. Bailey and Conifer's little fag clubs are now more than aware of you as well, they're just as dried out of young gay men such as yourself," he gestured. "So you've got the tri-city area vying for your attention as of now," he raised his brow.
"Give me a number, Cartman," he said coldly, tensing in Kenny's hold.
He shrugged again, "I can't say for absolute sure, because a lot of bids were made with me not there. But the final list gave me about 80 men. And that was just for your first job. They all knew that the price could potentially lessen as of your first outing, so a lot of them were holding out."
"Oh my fucking god," his shoulders dropped. "Are...are you fucking serious?"
He nodded. "Indeed I am. I don't joke around when it comes to business, Kahl, you know this."
Stan watched as Kyle's face just continued to drop, his body slumping into Kenny's arms. "Fatass, you said things would be different now that Kyle had his first...job," he winced. "Did you just mean the price or what?"
He chuckled and shook his head, "No. Tell me, Kahl, just how kinky did Garrison get on you?"
An onslaught of red took over the boy's face and he looked away deep into his coffee cup. "I'd rather not discuss it," he muttered.
"Handcuffs and ball gag, correct?" he smirked. Kyle just tensed and sunk down lower, refusing to so much as look at his boyfriend whom he could feel staring at him. "Kahl, I'm going to know everything that goes on behind that door, so don't fucking be all shy about it," he scoffed. "They have to clear it with me, and I put their sick little toys in the room. Now, did he give you a safety word like he was told to?"
"Yes," he seethed, his jaw trembling in humiliation.
"And it was...?"
He sighed in aggravation, "Bunny."
"And that is now your permanent safety word," he snorted. "Because now, things are going to start getting a little more dangerous here and there."
His eyes finally rose and he narrowed his gaze, nerves flittering through his irises, "What...whaddya mean?"
He rolled his eyes, "Well I can't just set you up with fuckers that you know, Kahl. That'd only make our list about fifteen fucking people."
"Fifteen?!" Kyle shrieked. "Who else?!"
He cocked his brow and smiled, "That's a private business matter, Kahl. Now. You knew you were going to be fucking strangers, but if I remember correctly, you said the day that you and I made this little agreement that not only did you have your little gangbangers after you, but you were tied up and mugged, correct?"
"Correct," he grumbled, shifting on Kenny's lap. He finally looked down at him and met sad blue eyes and felt his heart breaking all over again.
"Well, whenever you're involved with someone you don't know, whoever is watching you that night isn't going to be across the parking lot, they're going to be right outside the door listening to make sure you're not getting killed or whatever."
Kyle paused and looked at him confusedly, "How would-"
"Because you're going to scream your little safety word at the top of your fucking lungs," Cartman said smoothly. "Whoever's with you with have a spare key for wherever you are and come in to get you out while I deal with the client."
"And if he's fucking gagged?" Kenny growled, tightening his grip on the boy.
"I think you can tell the difference between a fucking moan and a panicked scream," he snorted. "And Kahl will be screaming like a banshee, so I think you'll figure it out."
Kyle blinked, looking at Stan, then Kenny, and back to Cartman. "Cartman...why are you trying to keep me safe? And a secret?" he narrowed his eyes. "This isn't fucking like you. Garrison told me what would happen if he told anyone my name."
He shrugged, "Because you're making $1500 an hour. You think I'm going to let that just slip through my fingers? And I know the safer you feel, the more likely you'll be to open up to customers, and the more likely you'll snare them for another night. Did Garrison say anything about that?"
He cleared his throat and nodded, "Yeah. Yeah he said he was going to save up for another night."
"Did he ask your permission first?" he asked cooly.
A slender brow raised and he nodded, "Yeah, he did...why?"
"Because I fucking told him if he wanted that he had to clear it with you first, Dumbshit," he rolled his eyes. "You'd be useless if you spent the whole night dreading it."
"Wait wait wait," Stan waved his hands in front of him and the three of them glanced over towards him. "You said it was fine for Garrison to pay for you for another night?"
Kyle blushed again and shrugged, "He didn't hurt me...a-and he...uh..."
"Tipped well I assume?" Cartman grinned. "I'm not stupid, I knew he would. I don't want your tips so you don't need to hide them from me," he snorted, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm making enough as it is off of you."
Kenny glanced up at his boyfriend, "Did he?"
He nodded, "He gave me $300."
"As a tip?!" Stan gaped. "Jesus Christ, Dude!"
"That's what I said," Kyle laughed softly. "I told him it was ridiculous. But...he insisted so...here we are," he shrugged.
"And I thought I did awesome when I get $150 at the bar over ten hours," Stan chuckled awkwardly, crossing his arms and shaking his head.
"Oh, speaking of," Kyle started, reaching down and grabbing the wad of money and looking at Stan. "What percentage do you want for being...uh...you know, a guard?" he winced embarrassedly.
Stan blinked at him, he wasn't really expecting anything out of it, he just wanted Kyle to be safe. "I...didn't really think..."
"How about thirty?" he cocked his head.
"Jesus, Dude, no, that's way too much for me just sitting there," he frowned. "Make it five."
"Twenty," he glared.
Stan rolled his eyes, Kyle's never-ending generosity was definitely out of place in this situation. "Okay, how about this: Ten percent, Kenny has to help me with gas for my truck twice a month, and you bitches owe me a trip out to a cheap dinner every other week."
"Deal," Kyle smirked, handing him $280. "Consider the extra ten a tip," he raised his brow at him. Stan just shook his head, shoving the dirty money down into his pocket.
"You see, Kahl?" Cartman grinned. "Look at that, you just handed Stan $300 without even blinking. Couldn't have done that while you were doing your impromptu prostitution ring, could you?"
Kyle sighed and shook his head, "No. No I couldn't."
"I told you," he chuckled, "You're going to make a shit ton of money here. And it wasn't nearly as bad as you thought it would be, was it?"
"Up until having Garrison's cock up my ass it was fine," he rolled his eyes, leaning his head down and resting it atop Kenny's. The blonde nuzzled up into him and looked over at the glutton with steely blue eyes.
"How often does Kyle have to do this?" he asked angrily.
"I'm thinking we start as once a week, then bump it up to two or three times once we get the ball really rolling," he smirked. "That's still less than how often you were doing so for chump change, isn't it?" he tilted his head.
Kyle nodded softly, "Yeah..." he reached down and clasped Kenny's shaking hand in his own tightly. Ken's fingers wrapped around his own and he leaned down, kissing his forehead.
"You two are such fucking fags," the brunette scoffed.
"Jealous?" Kenny sneered.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Whatever." he got to his feet and stretched, glancing at his watch. "Well, this has been fun, gentlemen...and Kahl. But I'm going home."
"Good," Kenny muttered.
"I...I probably should, too," Stan murmured, hopping off the couch. "Gotta cover a shift tomorrow afternoon. Get some sleep, you two."
They both nodded, "Bye, Stan," Kyle smiled softly at him. Kenny merely waved, Stan giving him one back as he followed Cartman out the front door. It slammed behind them and the two of them looked at each other tiredly.
"Are you okay?" Kenny asked, rubbing his back.
He laughed in disbelief, setting his mug back on the table. "Am I okay? Kenny, I'm worried about you right now. You look like death itself."
He grinned sheepishly and shrugged, "Well...you know I'm not fond of you doin' this."
"Well you know I'm right up there with you," he rolled his eyes. "But...fuck Ken...we have almost $3000," he whispered, both of them looking at the money with famished eyes. "We've never had this much money at once, even when we were both working! Add that onto what you'll get from the factory and...well..." he smiled at him sadly. "Maybe we're gonna be okay."
"Maybe financially, but what about mentally and physically?" he frowned. "Ky, I know Garrison didn't hurt ya or nothin', but-"
Kyle cut him off with a chaste kiss. He pulled back and that smile still played on his lips. "Look, Cartman is...admittedly, he's doing well with trying to keep me safe. And I think that I'm actually going to be okay. Besides," he shrugged, "You or Stan will always be there, and I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me. I'll be okay," he kissed him again. They pulled back apart and leaned their foreheads together with deep sighs. "Let's go to bed. I'm wiped," he murmured.
Kenny nodded, "Okay." Kyle moved to get off of him and he stopped him. The redhead looked at him confusedly before Kenny's face broke into a childish grin. He swept under Kyle's legs and behind his back, hoisting him up into the air with a girlish squeal.
"Put me down, Dickface!" Kyle growled, slapping his head.
"Nah," he laughed, shaking off the hit and walking towards their bedroom. Kyle growled, crossing his arms in a pout as he was carried off and away. Kenny snickered at his attitude as he managed to turn off the lights with his back, and bent down so Kyle could lock their front door. He made his way in through their bedroom door and dumped the redhead onto the bed. Kyle landed face first in his pillow and looked up, giving him a half-serious glare in the moonlight.
"You're a dick," he rolled his eyes.
"Oh you fucking love when I do that shit, don't even lie," he teased, hopping overtop of him to his side of the bed. Kyle just chuckled, both of them sliding under the covers. They both screeched as a lump jumped between them and fur flew into their noses.
"Doodle, you fucktard," Kyle growled, gently shoving him down towards their waists. They both watched amusedly as Doodle gave him an indignant look, hopping on the side of Kyle's hip and kneading into his skin.
Kyle winced at his claws and Kenny sniggered, "Ah, revenge is so sweet, ain't it Doods?"
"Don't encourage him," Kyle pouted. Ken laughed and grabbed around him, pulling him flush against his chest as they settled onto the mattress. He let his fingers play with Kyle's still dampened hair, watching the curls gently falling back into place. Kyle nuzzled into his chest, taking a long, deep breath. He bit his lip, his mind ringing something fierce. "Ken?" he whispered.
"Yeah?"
He backed up and stared up at him. "I need to ask you something and...and I really need you to be honest," he winced.
"You know I ain't got the smarts to lie on my feet," he smirked a bit before it fell concernedly. "What's up?"
Kyle opened his mouth a bit, his heart pounding madly in his chest in anxiety. "Do...do you...resent me for not...sleeping...with you...?" he asked, his voice dropping down to nearly nothing at the end of his questioning.
Kenny stared at him, his eyes widened in shock as the question between the lines was pronounced as though Kyle had shouted it through a megaphone. "Holy fucking shit you think I'd leave you over that?"
He recoiled back and blinked, "Well...I-I don't know...fuck, Kenny, remember in high school all we ever did was fuck around," he blushed.
"And it took us almost two years to get to that point and I didn't leave ya then either," he narrowed his eyes. "Jesus, Ky, you know me better than that."
"I know, I know," he said miserably, falling onto his back and knocking a very discontented cat off his hip. He stared at the ceiling, feeling those icy blues boring into him. "Ken, this whole thing...it's like it's changing me. I'm so fucking nervous around you anymore...I don't know what to do."
"Why would you be nervous around me?" he cocked his brow in confusion.
He looked over at him and took a deep breath. "Because I know you say that you don't see it, but I'm fucking terrified that you look at me and just think about how many people I've slept with. I keep thinking that you're going to just...wake up and realize what a mistake I was and leave me...I can't handle that..." he whimpered.
Kenny stared at him for a good while, letting his words sink in before he growled, lunging overtop of him and pinning him down. "You listen and you listen good, Broflovski," he snarled, sending Kyle recoiling back on the bed with wide eyes. "I don't think you're a whore. I don't give a fuck who you sleep with just to keep us fed. I'm gettin' really sick of this conversation, Kyle! How the fuck can I show you that I'm not leaving you for this? You know I wouldn't do that!" his face melting from frustration into complete despair. "Now I'm afraid you're going to convince your stupid stubborn self that you leaving would be best for me and I'll wake up and find you gone!"
"I would never do that!" Kyle insisted, sitting up a bit under him, their noses practically bumping.
"And I believe you, why won't you believe me?" he frowned.
"Because I'm the bad guy, not you!" he sighed in exasperation. "Dammit, Kenny...you're so fucking...forgiving I don't know what to do with you."
"Says the boy who literally blew right past me getting arrested for possession of cocaine," he reminded him. "Kyle, do you forget how we were when we started out?"
"Whaddya mean?" he raised his brow.
He scoffed, "I mean you were always the 'good guy'," he air quoted. "You were Mr. Perfect Grades and you were always so nice to everyone and trying to make life easier. I was the goddamn redneck who threw beer bottles at old people just because it seemed like fun," he shrugged.
Kyle shied down, "I...I wasn't-"
"Yes, you were," he cocked his brow. "You were always the guy that people came to when they needed help or someone to forgive them for the stupid shit they did. That's how we started out, remember? You said it yourself, we were like that annoying cliche: the good guy falling for the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks," he smirked a bit, watching as Kyle did the same. "So I started out not so great, and now we're a little reversed in people's eyes. So the fuck what? Now we'll get past this situation and down the line, maybe we'll finally both be the good guys, all right?"
He nodded softly, "Okay," he whispered, leaning up and taking Kenny's lips. He pulled back and sighed, "I still think you're way too forgiving sometimes."
He shrugged, falling back beside him and pulling him in close. "Well, someone needs to be there to pick up the pieces when you're being a little pussy," he teased.
Kyle scoffed, hitting his arm gently. "Thanks a lot. Nice to know my feelings make me a fucking pussy."
"Oh please, remember when I got emotional when I stepped on Doodle's paw?" he rolled his eyes bemusedly. "You called me a giant raging faggot for a fucking week."
"Well who the fuck cries when the cat is just fucking fine?!" he laughed into his chest.
"Someone who gives a fuck," he scoffed, kissing his head lightly.
A moment of quiet passed between them before Kyle's soft voice broke back through. "You've been giving a fuck about me for a long-ass time," he murmured sleepily. "You think you can keep it up with all this bullshittery?"
Kenny tightened his hold around him, his eyes glancing around their room. His stare locked on his top dresser drawer and he nodded, a tiny smile creeping up his lips. "Yeah. I do."
A/N: SO MUCH TALKING AGH
But Cartman knows his shit, yo. So much math omg I fucking hate math so much, even when it's simple. I am a full-fledged retard when it comes to numbers T_T But I did it /thumbs up.
Thanks for R&Ring!