A/N: Soooooo this chapter has actually been completed since September twelfth. Well, not completed as I just now changed the ending. But...I was really skeptical about making this the next chapter until I came up with the change tonight. I've had three chapters of this story done for nearly four months, guys, I'm awful at this writing thing.
Anyway, warnings: This chapter contains drug mention, "date rape" play, and drugged sex. If these make you uncomfortable, please inform me and I'll message you the skinny on what happened here plot-wise without graphic details. I know how bad shit can get if it triggers you, guys. I've been down that path, don't force yourself to check it out if you're skeptical, all right?
(Also, this chappie's kink is a real goddamn thing if you don't believe me since many people seem not to though Idk why they wouldn't. And the money amount is taken from me making conversation with someone who has this particular kink telling me that they wouldn't offer anything less. So. Not the best research method of them all but I work with what I got, aight?)
Enjoy~
Kyle's sharp eyes sliced across his monitor, drumming his fingers on his trackpad as his screen took its sweet time loading up. When it finally did, numbers splayed clearly on the screen, he felt his heart hitch in astonishment. Nearly $5,000 sitting there prettily from numerous cash deposits in his and Kenny's bank account. He flickered his eyes down to a pending balance, Kenny's first paycheck waiting in the wings for the next day to slide in, almost $600 from that. He leaned back, letting a long breath escape him.
Three 'appointments'. Only three and he had $5,000 in his hot little hands. It'd taken almost all of the last month carefully sectioning out their money into inconspicuous amounts to deposit, but each cent had finally been pulled in, waiting for them. He tongued over his teeth, glancing at their barren savings account and smiling to himself. It hadn't seen anything in so long living as they were. He looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. If this continued, the two of them could easily have over $20,000 at the end of his agreement with Cartman. That'd be plenty to hold them over until Kyle got a real job if that's the way things took them.
He couldn't help his grin before it slowly fell. Of course...this money wasn't exactly earned in a way he wanted to promote. And could they keep that much money under wraps? Someone was bound get suspicious, right? And it'd only be a matter of time before someone discovered just what it was he'd been up to if they started looking into it.
He groaned, scratching his hair irritably. So much for that glimmering hope, his damn common sense just had to step in and ruin everything.
He sighed, slowly making way across the screen, transferring $2,000 to his and Kenny's savings. He bit his lip glancing at the amount still spelled on the screen. He had a chance to do something here. Something he'd wanted to do for such a damn long time...He took a deep breath, grabbing his phone. He quickly dialed in his bank's customer support number, glancing around the screen and licking his lips. The phone clicked in, a man's voice appearing on the other line that nearly startled the boy. "Hi," he said slowly. "I need to do something with my account?" he winced.
"Okay, give me a moment here. Name?"
"Kyle Broflovski," he answered, spelling it out and stealing a glance at the clock. He had about ten minutes before Kenny got home. He could hear the man typing on the other line, tapping his foot against the carpet.
"All right, I just need to ask your verification question," the man continued. "Significant other's middle name and birthdate?"
The redhead smacked his lips, "James, March 22nd."
"Okay, Mr. Brolofski," the man said. Kyle rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself. "What can I help you with today?"
"I need to make a second savings account," he said, looking down to see Doodle staring at him expectantly. He sighed, pushing his chair out and tapping his lap, letting the furry monster hop up onto his thighs. "And is there any way I can make it so the person I share my account with doesn't see the new one?" he asked, scratching behind Doodle's ear.
"No, Sir, I'm sorry. You can make it so they can't access the account without your permission or coming directly into the bank, but they'd still be able to see it."
Kyle pouted, listlessly scanning over his options. He knew Kenny well enough to know he didn't take the time to actually look at their accounts, he just asked if they had money or not. "Yeah, that's fine then."
"I'll just need your card number for verification, Mr. Brolofski." Kyle growled, grabbing his wallet out of his pocket to Doodle's dismay. He rattled off the numbers, tossing the plastic back on the desk and petting the cat impatiently. "And how much did you want to transfer into the account?"
"$1,000 from my checking, please," he said softly.
"All right it'll be just a few moments, Sir."
Kyle just sighed, listening to the distance sounds of the man typing and quiet murmurs through the speaker. Doodle meowed impatiently, bumping his head against Kyle's chest. "What?" he hissed, moving the speaker from his mouth. Another meow sent Kyle's eyes into a roll. "I'll get you food after bit, keep your fur on, you ingrate," he whispered. Doodle rolled over onto his back and Kyle groaned, lightly scratching his belly, grimacing as his fingers were caught in claws and chewed upon.
"Okay, looks like we're set to go. The account is in your name and you can only withdrawal from it through the bank. Anything else?"
"Perfect," he said with a nod, swatting Doodle's nose a bit. "Nope, that's it. Thanks."
"No problem, Mr. Brolofski, have a nice day."
"It's Broflovski, you retard," he snapped, hanging up the phone and tossing it onto the desk with a pout. He looked down at the cat and sighed irritably. "It's not that hard, right? I mean, it's spelled out."
Doodle stared at him silently and he sighed again, shooing him off his lap and quickly closing out of the bank's webpage. He got to his feet and headed into the kitchen, making way for Doodle's stash of food and letting his mind flow free for a moment. This was his chance. He hated where he was but this was his chance to get the money that he needed. That both he and Kenny wanted. He knew that the only thing to do at this point was to make the best of a shitty situation, and this seemed to be the right way to go about it. He poured out a cupful of dry food into Doodle's dish, watching him jump after it and leaning back against a cabinet silently. He'd have to figure this out; how to hide the money, how to make it less suspicious. Only a month in, he wasn't too worried. But six months could be a death trap if he and Kenny weren't careful.
He twisted his lips in thought, interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. His face broke into a smile and he headed out towards the living room, the joy dropping as Cartman and Stan stepped through behind Kenny. "Why are you two here?" he demanded.
"Cartman grabbed both of us after work," Stan said miserably, throwing a beer-stained apron onto the coffee table.
Kenny walked over to him, leaning down and kissing him briskly. "Sorry, Babe," he murmured. "Bastard cornered me."
"It's fine," he sighed, kissing him again. "How was work?"
"Tiring," he said exhaustively, moving back into the middle of the room and plopping down on the couch beside Stan. Kyle followed close behind, sitting next to him and looking up to find Cartman staring at him thoughtfully.
"Can I help you, Fat-tits?" he scoffed.
His face broke into that damnable smirk and all three of them cringed. "Actually you can. I need to know some medical history, Kahl."
"If you're asking if I have STD's, I don't," he said dryly. "I've gotten tested like crazy since this bullshit started."
He shook his head, "Not what I meant, but good to know." He walked over, tossing a small briefcase onto the floor and plopped down into the chair, staring at him. Kenny caught a gleam in his eyes that he did not like. He wrapped his arm around the redhead, pulling him in closely.
"What are you wanting to know, Cartman?" he asked lowly.
"Tell me, Kahl, have you ever taken sleeping pills?" he asked innocently.
Kyle blinked. "Uh...not since high school."
"And just how well did you react with those?" he raised his brow.
Kenny pulled him in closer, "Horribly. He fucking hallucinated and couldn't fucking move. I almost took him to the hospital one night he was so lucid."
"Excellent!" he clapped excitedly.
Kyle narrowed his eyes, "The fuck do you mean 'excellent'?"
Stan leaned over and cocked his brow at Kyle, "You took sleeping pills?"
The redhead broke away from Cartman's stare and nodded. "Yeah. I was so stressed out our junior year with finals that I couldn't sleep worth a damn. Doctor prescribed 'em."
"You never told me that," he pouted.
Kyle rolled his eyes, "That doesn't count as holding a secret, Stan. I took them...what, three times, Ken?"
He nodded, "Yeah. He promised to only take 'em when he spent the night with me, thinkin' his body would get used to 'em. Didn't quite work that way. He freaked out so much thinking I was gonna attack him he gave me a black eye," he snorted, shaking the boy a bit. "One of the nights we were drinking beforehand and he had like, only one beer. I wake up because I don't feel him next to me and he's outside fuckin' sleepwalking out towards the road."
"Jesus Christ," Stan blinked.
Kenny grimaced, "Yeah, I flushed that shit before he could fuckin' blink."
Kyle smirked and shrugged before turning back to Cartman. "Why did you need to know that?"
"Because," he raised his brow, leaning back and grinning deviously, "we have a customer who wants to pay a very nice price for something...unique."
"Unique how?" he asked suspiciously.
Brown eyes flickered onto Stan and Kenny who watched with apprehension. "This one would require a little more involvement than standing outside the door," he said. "You'd need to be in the room."
"Why?!" Kyle asked in shock, a blush riding up his face already.
He tapped his finger against his knee and chuckled softly. "Date rape," he said simply.
"NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT." Kenny interjected immediately, grabbing Kyle and pulling him onto his lap possessively.
Kyle coughed from the sudden grasp around his lungs, still managing to glare at Cartman through his struggles. "The fuck is wrong with you?!"
"Well it's not actual date rape," he shrugged innocently. "Kahl gets a sleeping pill instead of something that can actual fucking kill him. He 'slips' him the pill into his drink, takes him back to the motel, then one or both of you is in the room to make sure this guy doesn't hurt him," he said.
"Can't I just fucking pretend to be asleep?" Kyle demanded.
He shook his head, "I suggested that but he didn't want that. But he was the one who suggested the sleeping pill and having someone in the room if it was so uncomfortable."
"That's fucking disgusting," Stan said in distaste, face twisting in nausea. "What kind of sick fuck wants to fuck someone who's unconscious?"
He shrugged, "More people than you think apparently. I did some research after I talked to the guy. It's some special sect of the rape fantasy group," he rolled his eyes. "I don't know. He's a freak but he's a freak with money."
"Every person you're setting me up with is a freak with money," Kyle glowered.
Cartman raised his brow amusedly. "Yes but this guy's been waiting for years to find someone who'll do this for him. He's been saving up like crazy."
"How crazy?" he asked, blinking in confusion.
"$6000," he smirked, watching their jaws drop slowly. "However, that comes with a bit of a price for you, Jew."
Kenny held onto him tighter, "Like what?"
"He has you until you wake up," he shrugged.
Kyle narrowed his eyes. "No. That's not happening. Those things keep me unhinged for like, twelve hours."
He nodded, folding his hands together. "All right then, Kahl. What amount of time do you think $6,000 warrants?"
"Are you actually asking my opinion or are you just going to say 'fuck off I'm your boss'?" he rolled his eyes.
"I want your actual opinion," he scoffed. "Kahl, you're the only fucking asset to this business right now. And he's offering a shit ton of money. This wasn't on your damn list so I can't make you do it."
Kyle sighed, "I don't know," he said honestly. "Cartman, I'd be unconscious or at least completely incoherent. I-I don't know how comfortable I am with that idea..."
"That's why you'll have them," he pointed to Stan and Kenny. "I'll make it clear that the second one of them thinks you're in actual danger, they have full permission to get him away from you."
The redhead stared at him before looking down at Kenny who looked like a complete mess. "Two hours." he muttered.
"What?"
He looked back at Cartman and set his lips firmly. "Two hours. $3,000 per hour..." he noticed Cartman's apprehension and took a deep breath. "Not including the lead up," he conceded slightly. "But I refuse to do it for anything less. That's putting a lot of trust into someone I don't know and I don't think it's asking too much."
Cartman nodded, a sharp grin sliding up his face as he reached into his pocket and snared his phone. "What are you doing?" Stan raised his brow.
He chuckled, "Seeing if he's willing to take Kahl's generous offer of course."
He was 46, first name James, Cartman had told them. He sat there later that night with kind grey eyes and receding salt-and-pepper hair. Stan and Kenny stood at the opposite end of the bar, watching him carefully as he talked to Kyle, seeming to take in every word the boy said with great intensity.
Cartman made his way up beside them, smirking. "And how goes the fag patrol?"
"Fuck off," Kenny muttered, never taking his eyes off of the redhead. His fingers clenched around his soda nervously. This felt worse than every other situation that they'd been forced into. He'd seen Kyle hopped up on the medication before, and it was scary enough when there wasn't an ever-looming threat from a stranger.
Cartman glanced at his watch, nodding approvingly. "All right aannnddd..." They watched as the man pointed off in a random direction, Kyle following his gesture and laughing as he slipped a small white pill into his drink, watching with a grin as Kyle turned back and raised it to his lips and took a long gulp.
Stan took a deep breath, rubbing his hair tiredly. "What exactly are you giving him, Cartman?"
"Trazodone," he said nonchalantly. "He said that's what he took before. 300mg worth will knock him on his ass. Way easier to find that shit than it should be," he commented offhandedly.
Kenny gulped, "Did he...say that was okay?"
Eric nodded, "Yep. Said that's what the doctor gave him, I even let him check them out to make sure they were the correct pills," he rolled his eyes. "He compared 'em to internet pics or whatever. Told me he didn't know how he'd react with a lower dose since he was never worked up to the 300...Sounds like he had a shitty doctor," he added.
"Yeah, there's a reason he stopped going to him," he muttered, watching Kyle carefully.
They all observed as Kyle finished off his soda over the course of nearly a half an hour, finally nodding at something James said before they both got to their feet. The group watched carefully as the man laid down the money for their drinks, putting a hand on Kyle's shoulder and leading him out of the establishment. The remainder hurried after them out the door, Kenny on them like a bloodhound, growls and all.
"Calm down," Cartman said cooly, slowing the three of them down to stay about thirty feet behind the two of them.
He grit his teeth, "How can I stay calm?" he hissed.
Cartman rolled his eyes and sighed. "Stan, you'll be in the room with Kahl, Kinny will be outside the door with me."
"Excuse me?!" Kenny shot at him.
His amber eyes traced over Kenny's distraught face, the pure rage and panic flittering through a pale expression. "You're too volatile," he replied calmly. "Marsh can keep his head. Not to mention you have your little jealousy complex. So he will be in there making sure the Jew isn't hurt, and you'll be waiting outside as backup."
"I don't think so!" he screeched through clenched teeth, flinching as Stan's hand wrapped around his arm.
"Kenny," the noirette said softly, "he has a point. If you lose your temper...what if this guy has a short fuse or something? Then Kyle's in a lot of danger that he didn't need to be in," he winced as he saw the betrayal etched on his pale face. "You know that I want him to be safe as much as you do," he continued. "I won't let anything happen to him, I promise."
Kenny looked from him up to Kyle, his face dropping as he noticed the redhead's steps beginning to go off-rhythm. They all watched as Kyle stumbled, the man catching under him and throwing his arm over his shoulder. "If he hurts him, I hurt you," he promised Stan, eyes narrowed dangerously.
Stan gulped, nodding briskly. He turned back to see Kyle falling limp, the man reaching down under him and swooping him into his arms, toting him off towards the motel down the sidewalk. "Go, Marsh," Cartman nodded. Stan stole a quick glance at Kenny who continued giving him a death stare and he sighed inwardly. He picked up his pace, following closer behind the man and his unconscious best friend. They came up to the motel and James shifted Kyle around in his arms, throwing him over his broad shoulder, Stan's heart dropping at his closed eyes and twitching face. James fumbled for his key, shoving it into the door and pushing it open, curling his finger for Stan to follow. The noirette took a deep breath and did so, grabbing the key back and shutting the door slowly behind them. He looked to the side, finding a chair and he shook his head, sitting on the arm and ready to pounce should things go awry.
James didn't pay him the slightest bit of attention, not seeming to mind or even notice the audience. He lied Kyle down on the bed, fingers tracing over him delicately. He brushed his finger up his cheek and Kyle whimpered, brow knitting together. The man's hands went up to the collar of the redhead's shirt, very slowly undoing each button down his body with an excited shake. He pushed each side apart, framing his narrow chest. He traced over him hungrily, taking in each inch of pasty skin with famished grey eyes.
"Two hours almost isn't enough," he murmured. Stan shivered at his voice, skin prickling as the man propped Kyle up with a hand on the back of his neck, peeling his shirt off and throwing it to the side. Stan swallowed down a string of bile as the man cupped his chin, kissing his unmoving lips tenderly. He averted his eyes, counting to ten and flickering back until he fell into the pattern, unable to watch the complete degradation of his best friend yet again.
The sound of a zipper made his stomach curl, his quick glance showing the man had already done away with Kyle's shoes and was working on his pants. Kyle made another disgruntled noise, Stan honing in on his face. He watched in concern as Kyle's eyes flittered open, half-lidded and glazed over something fierce. His head tilted down, only partially seeing the man set to defile him and narrowing his gaze confusedly.
His hand came down, feeling as though ladened with iron as he tried to push the man off of him. "Nnn-oo," he slurred, head falling back onto the bed again. His hands both went forward, clawing at air. James watched him for a moment before grinning, pulling Kyle's boxers down off and around his ankles, Stan's face erupting in a blush as he caught it in his peripheral. He tried to keep focused on Kyle's bewildered, exhausted face, head lolling around in a stupor.
"N-no..." he blinked rapidly, fingers twitching as James' hands came down and grasped his slim hips, pulling him further down the bed. His mouth was fumbling, body held down and fidgeting in the tight hold over his delicate frame.
James hovered above him, stiffened cock already dressed in a condom and being thinly lubed in his hand, watching the delusional boy with starving eyes. Kyle continued mumbling, trying to swat at the man. Stan glared as James balled up Kyle's boxers, gently pushing them into his mouth. Kyle whined, head falling to the side defeatedly. His glazed eyes locked in Stan's, nothing but confusion swimming through seas of green. Kyle's weakly fighting hands were snared by one of the man's own, bringing thin wrists together and snapping them down above his head. The redhead fought to turn his head back up, staring blankly at the man holding him down.
A dry finger trailed its way down, pressing inside of Kyle with little resistance. "Tight, aren't ya?" James licked his lips, adding another right off. Kyle whimpered at the addition, head going back to lolling around aimlessly. He didn't like what he felt. He couldn't place what it was but he just didn't like it.
James played around inside him for a bit, Kyle squirming and mumbling in-cohesive words all the while. He suddenly pulled out of him and roughly forced him further down the bed, his hips practically hanging off the mattress and lean legs dangling, splayed indecently around the man. The man grasped his cock with his free hand, working his way up to Kyle's ass and slowly pressing inside. The redhead blinked in panic, head and torso twisting as he tried to fight his way away from the pain and the uncertainty of what was happening.
Stan watched, completely torn. He couldn't tell if Kyle was actually hurt or if it was merely the delirium. The man pressed as far into Kyle as he could, resting inside for a few moments and watching the boy's struggle with a quirk on the edge of his lips. He pulled back and thrust back in roughly, Kyle's entire body lurching at the feeling.
He couldn't figure it out. He just couldn't even think and he was terrified. This man was hurting him and he was trying to scream but he couldn't. He tried moving his arms again, held down too tightly in James' grasp as he continued thrusting against him. Kyle tried calling around the boxers shoved past his teeth, eyes flickering around the room, passing over Stan, not recognizing him as a person, just another obstacle that was out to hurt him. Lips traced over his neck and they felt like fire, the embers searing the flesh as teeth ground down. A strong hand gripped his hip with too much pressure, bone creaking under the sheer force. One word circulated in his overwhelmed mind; screaming at him, demanding his attention.
'-nnnyy..." he mumbled, catching Stan's hearing as he watched him being violated with a heavy heart. Stan sighed, leaning his cheek into his palm. A part of him couldn't help but feel guilty for wondering if porn would ever be the same for him again. Lord knows this show definitely wasn't doing a damn thing for him. '-nn-yyy," Kyle tried again.
Stan bit his lip, wondering if he should get Kenny to calm Kyle down if only slightly; If he should risk the blonde losing his cool.
"Fuck, tight little thing," James hissed, muttering into his neck before sinking his teeth down into the flesh again, hips pushing against him faster.
"-NNY!" Kyle cried out. Stan watched carefully, eyes narrowed as Kyle's tongue slowly rolled out, trying to push the gag out of his lips. The fabric finally fell from his open teeth, the man not noticing in the slightest as continued his assault.
"B...Bu...B-bun..." Kyle tried, eyes wide and deadened as he slid up and down the bed.
Stan's eyes widened in alert. He wasn't saying Kenny.
"OFF HIM, NOW!" Stan demanded, hopping to his feet. The man stopped in shock, turning and glaring at him.
"I paid for two hours," he hissed, hands digging deeper into Kyle's flesh possessively, now shining with sweat in the cheap motel lighting. The redhead whined, body lightly contorting in a weak attempt to escape.
"Kenny!" he called, beginning to advance.
The door burst open and the blonde sprinted inside past Stan, not even waiting for an explanation before rushing the man and tackling him down to the ground. Stan hurried over to Kyle, who was shaking like a leaf, his eyes wide and jaw trembling out of control. He moved the boy's arms down to his sides, biting his lip at the finger marks beginning around his wrists. He had no idea the guy was using so much force, he couldn't tell with Kyle being so out of it, and it wracked him with a slick, heavy guilt settling like tar in his chest. "Shit, you're okay, Kyle," he assured him worriedly, grabbing the comforter and wrapping him tightly within it, holding him closely.
Cartman sauntered into the room, raising his brow at Kenny holding James down on the floor. "I told you not to hurt him, Mr. Andrews," he said lowly, kneeling down in front of him. "Now, you have two options: Either you get the fuck out of here, deal with the fact that you lost all your money with dignity, or I tell your boss about your little problem," he wiped his nose and sniffled pointedly. "Random tests aren't always random, Mr. Andrews, so I suggest you pick yourself up and walk out of here. And you touch him again," he pointed at Kyle's trembling form, "you'll lose more than just your job. Are we clear?"
The man blinked at him, taking a long, angry breath. "Fine," he grumbled, pushing Kenny off of him and standing, stuffing himself back into his pants and huffing. He stole a final glimpse at Kyle before shoving past Cartman out the door, slamming it behind him.
Kenny rushed to his feet and got beside Kyle. "Hey, hey, hey, it's me, Ky. It's just me." he cooed, brushing his hair back, taking the comforter from Stan's hands and gently unwinding it as Stan held him up. He growled, finding blood running down his chest from teeth marks, the bruises on his hip and wrists from large hands. He continued scanning him up and down, heart dropping at the clear sight of red running down his inner thighs. "Oh, Ky," he whimpered, wrapping him back up and pulling him into his arms. He looked up at Cartman who was back on his feet, staring at Kyle openly. "Never. Again," he said curtly, holding him closer. "You said...if he got hurt he'd never have to do this again."
"A few bandages and I should be good," a smooth voice came through the tension. They all stared down at a coherent Kyle in shock, watching him genially working his arm out of the comforter and running his fingers through his hair.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" Cartman barked. "You didn't fucking do what you-"
A shady glance came from the redhead and he stopped in his tracks. "I fucking let him think he had me drugged, Fatboy. He couldn't tell the fucking difference. We got the money, didn't we? You have no reason to fucking complain."
Kenny let out a shaking breath, wrapping his arms tighter around the redhead and sniffling. "Jesus fucking Christ, Kyle, you had me scared out of my goddamn mind," he whimpered, holding him closer. Kyle looked at him sadly, kissing his cheek and nuzzling down against his face.
Stan stared at him in silence a few more moments, brain barely able to comprehend the events that'd just unfolded. "You...how did you-"
"Swiped the pills Cartman brought when he let me 'inspect them'," he shrugged nonchalantly, turning his head from Kenny's coddling to let him bury himself in his neck. "Replaced it with some melatonin."
Cartman opened his mouth, eyes narrowed in a ferocious glare before it softened, a soft huff breaking through his nose. "Fuck, I can't even be angry about that one. Clever, ya fucking sneaky Jew."
Stan rubbed his temple, eyes scrunching. "It looked so real," he whispered.
Kyle shrugged, wincing as he shifted his bruised body. "Ken, can...can ya lighten up a little now? I hurt." Kenny flew back from him almost dramatically, watching him in panic. He rolled his eyes, reaching out and grabbing his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Do you remember wayyyy back in high school when you three invited me over to get high when I was supposed to be studying for finals?"
They all looked at each other confusedly before turning back to him. "Yeah?" they replied simultaneously.
He smiled innocently, "Had you fuckers fooled I was as high as you, didn't I? All that took was some eye drops and well-timed exhaling. All this took was some melatonin to make me just a little tired and get my eyes to look glazed," he waved towards his face aimlessly. "I'm not stupid, I know what pills do what to my body."
Stan leaned back, shaking his head, "You're a hell of an actor, Ky. I really thought you were completely gone."
He shrugged again, smacking his lips. "Well, wish I coulda gotten him out of here sooner, but had to play it fucking 'drugged' or we woulda lost all the money, and I wasn't coming out of this shit empty handed," he frowned.
Cartman smirked, "Such a Jew."
Kyle huffed. "Whatever. This Jew is walking out of here with over $3200."
Kenny's hand tightening around his own got his attention, looking over to see the blonde looking completely distraught. "Kyle, you got hurt," he reemphasized. "You said if you got hurt, then you wouldn't do this anymore."
"Technically he didn't," Cartman replied smoothly. "He wasn't fulfilling his end of the contract and following my orders," he said firmly, getting a glare from the three still piled on the bed. "You're lucky I'm letting you keep your portion of the money, Kahl."
He sighed in irritation, "How did I fucking know that would happen?"
"Because, I'm as stingy with my agreements as you are with money," Cartman hiked his brow amusedly.
Kyle scoffed and shook his head. "All right, you two turn and let me get dressed. And someone has to carry me out of here," he muttered. Stan and Cartman looked at each other before turning away from the redhead, Stan shaking his head to himself. Not like he hadn't just watched Kyle being fucked by a stranger but whatever made him feel better.
"Why does someone have to carry you out?" Cartman demanded, staring at the door impatiently.
"Because," he said, sliding up his boxers and pants and wincing at the sharp pain. Kenny watched him helplessly and Kyle patted his head with a small, sad smile. "If he's watching and I just stroll on out, he's going to confront us. So I'm going to 'stay unconscious' until we get home."
Cartman paused, nodding slowly, "Good point. Kinny-"
"Yeah no I wasn't letting either of you fucks do it," Kenny sneered.
"What did I do?" Stan blinked at the wall.
"You didn't fucking catch the fuck hurting him and-"
"Kenny, stop," Kyle demanded, the blonde halting all at once as Kyle finished dressing himself and stared at him. "It's not Stan's fault. Look, if I really had taken the pills, I may not have been able to tell him at all, all right? It could have been so much worse. Let's just...take a deep breath and get the fuck home. Please?" he asked softly.
Kenny let out a long sigh through his nose, nodding subtly. "Sorry, Stan."
He shrugged, "You're fine, Ken. You're acting better than I would in this situation, I'm sure."
Ken stood up beside Kyle, kissing his cheek before bending down with his arm against the back of his knees. "Ready?" Kyle nodded, yelping a bit as Kenny swooped him up, cradling him protectively in his arms. Stan turned, walking over and tearing off his hat and jacket. He shoved the hat down on Kyle's scalp, forcing them over the thick curls and pushing his bangs down over his eyes, tossing the coat over him.
"What uh...what are you doing?" Kyle blinked from his hidden position.
"Keeping the chance of him seeing you responsive at a minimum," he muttered.
Cartman nodded approvingly. "Good thinkin' Marsh. Keep your eyes and mouth closed, Jew. It's a good walk back to the bar."
"Right," he muttered, pressing his head against Kenny's chest and relishing in the steady thumping of his heartbeat, finally calmed from finding the redhead bruised and distraught. The group stayed silent as Cartman let them out of the room, closing the door behind them as they made way back through town. Kenny tightened his arms in the slightest around his boyfriend, Kyle sighing in a silent contentedness despite his aching limbs. Despite it all, he was fucking safe, and that's what mattered. However, the thought was ever-present in both theirs and Stan's weary minds: If Cartman was willing to put him up to something like this, just what else would possibly be down the way?
A/N: Kyle's "reactions" are totally based on my experiences with Trazodone. I mean. Not the sex part but the hallucinations and stuff. Really. I'm not a prostitute you shut up.
Anyway I found this kink when trying to find different things to write and like, I never considered the possibility of this actually being a thing. Obviously it's super dangerous and most people do opt for the 'pretend to be asleep' thing. There are of course some who go the extreme route, but even they don't suggest doing so. So, if this interests you, fucking pretend. Do not do drugs and put yourself in someone else's hands, even if it's someone you trust. You never know when shit can go wrong. I love you kids and don't want you to get ideas from these crappy stories. Listen to Mama Court, she knows her kinks. Sometimes. And those she doesn't she talks to people who help her learn them /thumbs up.
Thanks for R&Ring!