Kyle feels like a fucking zombie.
It's his third night call in a row at the hospital and he still hasn't adjusted his biological clock. To combat the creeping fog taking over his brain, he sips coffee that has long since gone cold in hopes the caffeine will wake him up, at least enough to survive until he can finally sign out his patients to the day team.
He glances at the clock. Just a few more hours until 7AM.
"Ughhh..." he groans.
No wonder so many doctors end up doing cocaine. This shit is fucking impossible.
He stares blankly at the computer screen, trying to finish a patient transfer note he's been chipping away at for over a half-hour. It doesn't help that the hospital has a shit budget and these stupid computers are several years too old to adequately handle the EMR software, so they're slow as fuck, only adding to the feelings of lethargy and frustration taking over him. He's already had to restart this useless computer twice since the start of his shift.
Luckily, the night hasn't been too busy, at least compared to yesterday which involved way too many new admissions and way too many code blues he had to rush to. It didn't help that it also reminded him how horrendously out of shape he was when trying to run up the stairs and was huffing and puffing like an old man. He knows he could be working out if he really wanted to, but every time he gets home he's just been too exhausted.
Tonight, he's only had one new admit and thankfully nobody's coded, so he can take his time finishing the required mind-numbing paperwork for his other patients.
His eyes start to burn and he's forced to squeeze them shut, holding his head in his hands to try and stop the headache he feels coming on. And he forgot to bring Advil.
Great.
He groans to himself, frustrated.
Fuck, dude. This shit fucking sucks.
Why did he go into medicine again? Oh yeah. To like… help people and shit. And, well, he hasn't officially been a doctor for very long, but he does feel like he's actually been making a difference even in that short time.
Not to be a fucking sap, but every time he's been congratulated by his seniors for a job well done, every time he's helped literally bring someone back to life during a code, and every time a patient looks him in the eye and says a genuine "thank you" to him… It warms his icy heart, okay? So at least that means something. That's what he tells himself, anyway.
He knew intern year was gonna suck balls, but it's one thing hearing about it and another thing living through it. The senior residents have told him it's all downhill after he finishes his ICU rotation, but he's still got two more weeks of this shit and his energy is already drained more than he's normally able to handle.
Sighing loudly, he brings his head up again and forces himself to skim over his transfer note one more time. It's far from perfect but it needs to get done so he decides fuck it, and clicks the 'sign' button. It's fucking three in the morning so he doubts anyone will judge him for writing a semi-shitty note.
Almost immediately after he signs the note, he feels a vibration against his hip. He jumps in his seat and pulls his pager from its holder, but frowns and squints at it when he sees it's not actually going off. He's so out of it that it takes him a hot second before he realizes it's his personal cell phone ringing.
Who the fuck would be calling him this time of night? He pulls it out and answers.
"Hello?" he says tiredly.
"Kyle! Where are you right now?"
Oh, great. It's fucking Cartman and his ridiculously familiar, annoying-as-hell voice. He sighs and rubs his eyes before responding.
"Why the fuck are you calling me at three in the morning?"
He hears Cartman laugh and sputter in disbelief.
"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I barely see you for over a week and this is the greeting I get? What about 'Oh, Eric, how lovely to hear from you! I miss you soooo much baby, I wish I could see you and hold you in my arms…' What about that, huh?"
Kyle is way too fucking tired for this bullshit right now, but he can hear the thinly-veiled disappointment in Cartman's tone and it makes his heart sink.
He can't help feeling guilty for not being able to see each other as much as he would like, but there isn't much he can do about it. They both knew that his schedule was going to be shit this year. With Kyle doing nights and Cartman working normal business hours, they only have been able to see each other face-to-face for the few overlapping minutes when Cartman gets home and Kyle is in the process of running out the door. And last week, when Kyle was working during the day, he wouldn't leave until well after eight in the evening because he was stuck covering another intern's call. He was too fucking tired to do anything but eat and sleep once he got home, much less spend time with Cartman in any meaningful way other than being unconscious next to each other.
Needless to say, he knows that Cartman is getting lonely.
Admittedly, Kyle is too.
"Look, I'm sorry, man. I'm just… really fucking tired," Kyle says. He sighs for the millionth time that evening and rests his forehead against the heel of his hand. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Cartman scoffs, and Kyle knows from the tone that he's rolling his eyes.
"Don't get your panties in a twist. Everything's fine, Kyle. I just wanna know where you are."
The question is so stupid that Kyle stares into the metaphorical camera like he's on The Office.
"I'm at the hospital, dumbass. Same place I've been for the past three fucking months."
"No, I mean like where in the hospital are you? Like what room?"
Kyle blinks and looks around the call room, then realizes he doesn't actually remember so he walks through the open door and peers around the door frame to read the room placard.
"Uhh… sixth floor, room thirty-four. Why do you wanna know that?"
"Okay, I'm on my way," Cartman says, and Kyle can hear him breathing hard like he's walking fast.
"Wait wait wait, what the fuck? What do you mean you're 'on your way'? What are you doing?"
"I'm coming to see you, asshole!" Cartman yells through the receiver.
Kyle blinks, confused. "What?"
"I'm in the goddamn hospital, Kyle! I made a copy of your ID badge and got in through the back. Security guards don't give a shit in the middle of the night, you know that."
Kyle's jaw drops open.
"Wait, so you're the one who took it last week?! I was looking for that stupid thing for three days!" Kyle yells, furious at the realization.
"Uh, duh, Kyle. You really think I'm gonna let you seal yourself away from me with some lame, janky security system? You can't keep me out forever."
"What the hell are you talking about, 'sealing myself away'? It's not a fucking bunker."
"Well, that's what it fuckin' feels like!" Cartman exclaims.
Kyle lets out a long, frustrated groan. This kind of behavior from Cartman isn't surprising in the slightest, and normally he'd already be arguing at full force. But Kyle's patience is practically nonexistent at this point and he doesn't feel like dealing with Cartman's ridiculous tomfuckery.
He's pissed off. But in the back of his mind, he's also somewhat relieved and… happy… that Cartman would go through so much effort just to see him.
"Kyle? Kyle, you still there?" Cartman asks, because Kyle's been quiet for a good minute.
"Yeah, I'm here," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Alright, I'm almost there, don't fucking move."
Kyle frowns. "You do realize I'm stuck here working for the next four hours, right? It's not like we can go out for a romantic candle-lit dinner, dumbass."
Cartman doesn't respond right away, but Kyle hears him humming thoughtfully, followed by a long moment of silence.
"Cartman?"
He still doesn't get a response, but then the overhead hospital-wide speaker clicks on with an announcement.
"Attention please, attention please: code blue, fifth floor, room 518. Repeat: code blue, fifth floor, room 518."
Kyle immediately jumps up and starts heading down the hall to the stairwell. He's still technically on call, so it's still his job to respond to codes and he needs to get there as fast as possible.
As he's jogging, though, he hears shrill screaming through his cell phone, with Cartman still on the line.
"Kyle! KYLE! Didn't you hear me?! Stay right where you are! Don't you dare fucking move!"
Kyle pulls the phone up to his ear again and yells, "What?!" Then he cringes when he gets an annoyed glare from one of the nurses he passes. He forgot it's way too early in the morning for screaming, so he switches to a stage-whisper and seethes into the receiver.
"What?"
"Stay right there, asshole!" Cartman says, still breathing heavily.
Kyle stops in his tracks, his tired brain finally piecing together what's happening.
"Cartman," he growls, his tone flat. "What did you do."
He can practically hear Cartman smiling through the phone.
"Whatever do you mean, Kyle?" he asks innocently.
Just then, the overhead speaker clicks on again and announces, "Attention please, attention please: code blue, fifth floor, room 531. Repeat: code blue, fifth floor, room 531."
"Cartman!" Kyle shouts. He cringes again at his unintentional volume.
"What?" Cartman says, disgustingly and falsely innocent.
No. No fucking way. The pattern is too coincidental.
Cartman is doing something to fuck with the patients in the hospital.
Whether it was pulling someone's arterial line, or ripping the plug off of someone's ventilator, or whatever the fuck else that alerts the hospital staff that a patient is in danger of decompensating, Kyle knows that Cartman is fucking responsible.
"Holy shit! Stop it, you fucking lunatic, you're gonna fucking kill someone!" he whisper-yells.
"I need a way to distract people, Kyle," Cartman protests. "I can't have random nurses asking for my fucking ID and kicking me out of here, now can I?"
Kyle groans loudly enough to make sure Cartman can hear it.
"Oh my God…"
And then, right on cue, another announcement is made.
"Attention please, attention please: code blue, sixth floor, room 618. Repeat: code blue, sixth floor, room 618."
"What the fuck?!" Kyle seethes, appalled.
He rounds the corner at the edge of the west unit and, lo and behold, he sees Eric fucking Cartman speed-walking through the hallway past the denizens of hospital staff rushing past him to get to the code.
"Cartman!" Kyle growls through clenched teeth.
"C'mon, c'mon, we gotta hurry!" Cartman pleads, tugging at Kyle's arm to lead him back down the hallway he came from.
"Jesus fucking Christ, what did you do?!" Kyle yells.
"Relax, dipshit, I just unplugged some monitors, they're fine," Cartman says dismissively, waving his hand in the air. It's a little too dismissive.
"You're lying," Kyle accuses.
Cartman rolls his eyes, pausing for a second before answering. "Okay, maybe I pulled a couple breathing tubes."
"WHAT?!"
"Hey, it's no big deal! The nurses will fix them up. Gotta make those lazy asses earn their wages, right?"
Kyle's blood boils, so pissed beyond belief both for himself and on behalf of the nurses who probably do more work in a half-hour than Cartman's done in his entire fucking life. By this point, Kyle's practically vibrating with rage and can't even respond for a good few seconds. Meanwhile Cartman just keeps on tugging him back towards the call room.
"Cartman, I swear to FUCKING God—"
"Come on, Kyle," Cartman interrupts. "We don't have time for your bitching."
They finally pass through the threshold of the call room. Cartman immediately closes the door behind them and drags Kyle towards the twin bunk beds in the far corner.
Kyle yanks his arm away and glares daggers at him as he prepares to curse him out for being so fucking reckless with people's lives.
"Okay you fucking psycho, what the hell are you—!"
He's cut off from his protest by a hard kiss on the mouth. Cartman sucks at Kyle's lips desperately right off the bat, wrapping both arms around him to yank him closer so quickly that Kyle almost loses balance.
As soon as Kyle's tired brain processes what's happening, he can't help but kiss him back, grabbing the collar of his jacket. A thrill of pleasure runs up his spine and his anger is poisoned with arousal.
His head reels from the emotional whiplash.
But God, he didn't realize how much he missed this. Kissing Cartman always feels way too good to be normal. And right now, it's almost like… a relief. Like drinking ice water on a hot day or putting salve on a burn. He forgets about his prior exhaustion and lets himself sink deeper into their kiss.
Cartman breaks away and slides his hand down to greedily squeeze at Kyle's ass, pulling his lower body flush against him, and it makes Kyle's dick jump against his will.
"Mmm, fuck, I missed you so fucking much, Kyle…" Cartman whines, pressing a needy kiss to the corner of his jaw, just under his ear. "I need you so fucking bad. "
Kyle shivers. Oh, Jesus Christ. He's so overwhelmed by the sudden mood change that all he can do is pull Cartman's body closer and try not to lose his head.
"Haven't had you in two. Goddamn. WEEKS," Cartman complains between kisses. "You make me fucking insane, you know that?"
Holy shit. He doesn't know if he's ever seen Cartman this blatantly horny.
Kyle's never been that good with dirty talk, unlike Cartman who can do it as easily as breathing, but he finds that it works best whenever he's as honest as possible.
He growls and holds Cartman's pudgy face in his hands, forcing him to look him in the eyes.
"Dammit, you think I like being stuck here without you?" Kyle says. "You think I like not being able to fuck you for two weeks?" His residual anger is making him feel aggressive, so he kisses him hard, tilting Cartman's head so they can fit their lips together more easily. He bites down on Cartman's lower lip, earning him a yelp and a needy whine.
Cartman gropes handsily at his ass and digs his nails in as payback, pulling their hips together with hard pressure.
In the back of his mind, Kyle realizes how extremely fucking reckless this is. Anyone could barge in at any moment and find them going at it like a pair of horny mutts.
But, then again, Cartman just caused three code blues in a row, so he doubts anyone will be paying enough attention to actually catch them. He's technically supposed to be helping stabilize the patients, but he likely won't be missed; he's just a fucking intern. Or, if he is missed for some reason, they'll probably just assume he's at a different code.
He'd never admit it out loud in a million years, because encouraging Cartman's insane destructiveness is the last fucking thing he should be doing, but Cartman's stunt has bought them precious time.
And he's actually so, so grateful for it.
They make out for another mind-numbing minute until Cartman breaks away with a gasp, pushing Kyle to sit on the lower bunk and sinking to his knees in front of him.
"C'mon, c'mon, I need your cock in my mouth." His voice is low and gruff, and he's already tugging at the waist of Kyle's scrub pants.
Oh, God, he's really jumping out of the gate with this, isn't he? Not that Kyle's complaining.
"Jesus Christ, Eric, fuck," Kyle says, helping him slide his pants down to his thighs.
If he wasn't hard already, he sure as hell is now. The sight of Cartman on his knees always makes his stomach twist and his heart stutter. Those deceptively puppy-like brown eyes of his are dilated with lust, looking up at Kyle like he's something precious.
Cartman is breathing hard as he pulls out Kyle's cock from the slit in his boxers. He holds the base of the shaft in his hand before taking Kyle into his mouth with a gruff moan, sliding his other hand up Kyle's thigh. It feels like a fucking gut-punch of pleasure radiating through his body from his cock, and Kyle has to cover his mouth to muffle his surprised cry.
Humming around him, Cartman slides his mouth down and languidly comes back up, sucking hard and dragging his tongue up the underside of his shaft.
"Oh, fuck yes," Kyle moans. He lets out a shaky sigh, carding his fingers through Cartman's soft hair, and Cartman visibly shivers at his touch. Kyle's heart lurches with a sudden burst of affection and his breath catches. Cartman sucks at the head of his dick and licks up drips of pre-cum before sinking down again.
"Ngh– God, that's so good…so fucking good," Kyle murmurs, curling his body over Cartman's.
It's always good, being with Cartman like this. But there's an underlying current of desperation between them that's making Cartman act ridiculously needy and makes Kyle want to treat him with care and praise that he'd normally keep inside his head. The bastard's ego is big enough as it is without Kyle contributing to it, but right now he's allowing himself to make an exception. He really did miss him.
Cartman swallows around Kyle's dick and whines pitifully. Kyle looks down and realizes he's palming himself as he sucks Kyle off. Holy fuck.
He doesn't understand why Cartman gets off on giving head so much, but Kyle actually fucking loves it.
It reminds him that, despite everything else that might be fucked up about their relationship, Cartman is undeniably into him. Like, really into him. Enough that he can come just from having Kyle's dick in his mouth. And he has, more times than Kyle can count. Kyle always tries to reciprocate before that happens because he wants their physical relationship to have equal give and take, but if Cartman's horny enough before they start fooling around he often beats Kyle to the punch.
And honestly? Kyle thinks that's… really fucking hot. Cartman's always so incredibly passionate about everything he does (for better or worse), and sex is no exception. He loves how shameless and intense and needy Cartman can be in bed, how he throws his entire being into making Kyle feel good and just… enjoying how their bodies fit together.
It's probably the least selfish thing Cartman does for him, and Kyle can't help but want to give back as good as he gets.
Cartman bobs his head at a steady pace, breathing deeply through his nose as he takes Kyle further into his mouth and stuffs a hand down his own pants to clutch his erection. He's already making noises that Kyle knows mean that he's getting close, so he grabs Cartman's face with both hands to pull him off.
"H-hey," he says, breathing hard. "Let me touch you."
Cartman swallows and nods frantically. Grabbing his collar, Kyle pulls him up onto the bed and maneuvers their bodies until he's on top of Cartman, settling between his thick thighs. He supports himself on his forearms and kisses him, slides his tongue deep into Cartman's mouth. A thrill runs up his spine at the quiet moan that rumbles out of Cartman's throat.
Kyle pulls away for a moment to get rid of Cartman's pants, but he doesn't bother taking them all the way off and leaves them dangling off one leg along with his boxers. The pale skin of his legs is exposed and Kyle sits back to run his hands up his legs, scratching through the soft, short hair and over the delicate ripples of stretch-marks along his inner thighs. He squeezes his thighs possessively, purposefully avoiding touching his cock, and Cartman keens, swearing under his breath. He pushes up Cartman's shirt to his armpits and exposes more of his skin.
Cartman squirms and pulls at Kyle's arms to bring him closer, but Kyle resists him. He wants to keep looking at him for a bit.
He feels up the sides of his chubby torso, squeezing the soft flesh like it's play-doh and drawing out a few more needy whines from his partner. He loves when Cartman is so exposed like this, all that skin on display, his cock hard and leaking where it rests against his thigh, eyes half-lidded with arousal.
Never in a million fucking years would he have expected this weird fascination he has with Cartman's body, especially given… well, obvious reasons. He's still a fat bastard. But Kyle doesn't know what it is; seeing Cartman naked and vulnerable like this always makes him hard as hell. And it's weirdly… cute. Not that he'd ever tell Cartman he was cute. He'd never fucking live it down.
Cartman's tugging at his arm incessantly now, so Kyle finally gives in and lets himself be pulled down so their bodies are flush together again. They're both breathing hard as Cartman flails his hand around, searching blindly until he finds Kyle's hand and drags it down between his legs. He expects Cartman to put his hand on his cock, but then he moves lower. His fingers are guided into Cartman's ass and Kyle gasps when he realizes that Cartman's completely lubed up already.
"Holy shit, dude, what the fuck?" Kyle murmurs.
Cartman immediately goes on the defensive.
"What did you expect, Kyle?" he snaps, even as he rocks his hips to get Kyle's fingers to sink deeper. "It's your fucking fault that I'm so goddamn horny all the time, like how fucking dare you? You're– hah-ah… mmn, fuck –" Cartman trails off and his eyes flicker shut when Kyle curls his fingers up just so, but he quickly recovers, scowling. "Y-you're ruining my fucking life, you son of a bitch!"
Kyle smirks, running his free hand through Cartman's hair and tugging a little, making Cartman gasp.
"So you're saying you were fingering yourself in the middle of the night because you missed me?" Kyle asks, unashamedly facetious.
Cartman scoffs and his face goes bright red. Kyle's heart swells with fondness for this emotionally constipated and denial-ridden loser, but he's not done messing with him yet. He curls his fingers again, rubbing slow circles against Cartman's prostate, and Cartman cries out.
"Mmm, fuck you, Kyle, God…" he gasps, throwing his head back and rocking his hips faster, clearly getting impatient. Kyle leans down to kiss his lips, then works his way down his neck and chest, nipping and then soothing the skin with his tongue. Cartman combs his hands through Kyle's hair and moans as Kyle keeps working him with steady pressure against his prostate. When he gets to the nipple, Kyle takes it into his mouth and sucks hard, and feeling Cartman contract around his fingers as he cries out and bucks his chest upwards.
Goddamn. Cartman's always so ridiculously responsive, and it makes Kyle's dick twitch.
"A-ah, fuckfuckfuck, oh God—!" Cartman groans. Then he tugs on Kyle's hair, hard enough to make him wince. "Alright that's it. Stop blue-balling me and give me your fucking dick," he growls.
"Okay, okay, Jesus," Kyle says, nipping his chest in retaliation. "Needy much?"
"Uh, yes Kyle, we've already established that. Now shut up and fuck me."
Kyle rolls his eyes and stands.
"So fucking bossy," he says under his breath. "One sec."
He goes over to the desk on the other side of the room to grab the small bottle of lotion some other resident left there, then half-runs back into the bed and settles back between Cartman's legs. He squirts a generous amount of lotion into his hand and coats his dick with it, shaking with anticipation.
"C'mon, c'mon, hurry up, I'm fucking prepped already, asswipe! Just— o-oh, FUCK yeah…"
Kyle lines up his cock and slides easily into Cartman's entrance. They both moan at the jolt of pleasure and relief that floods through them. Overwhelmed, Kyle ducks his forehead into Cartman's shoulder and tries not to lose his fucking mind as he sinks deep into that addicting, wet heat.
"Oh God," Kyle moans helplessly, clutching at Cartman's body. Cartman lets out a shaky sigh and wraps his legs around Kyle's back.
Kyle clenches his jaw and barely suppresses a whimper.
God, fourteen days really is a long fucking time.
He shivers when he bottoms out, savoring the feeling of intimacy he hadn't realized he missed so much. It sounds ridiculously cliché, but there really is no other feeling in the world like this, with their bodies connected and as close as they can possibly be to each other.
"Ngh, fucking finally," Cartman moans. "That's it Kyle, c'mon…" He tips his hips upwards to make him somehow sink in even further.
Taking a deep breath, Kyle slides back slowly until just the head of his cock is inside, then carefully slides back in. Fuck, Cartman's just squeezing around him, and it's making him go insane. He starts a rhythm at a snail's pace, unable to go any faster or he knows he'll bust way too fucking early. It feels way too good, like his brain's doing a metaphorical happy dance from finally getting his dick wet after two weeks. Cartman seems to agree given the needy whimper he lets out when Kyle grinds into him point-blank, squeezing Kyle's body with his legs.
God, it's too much. Kyle stops moving and has to just breathe for a moment, waiting until he feels like he isn't on a hair-trigger.
"Kyle," Cartman whines, squirming.
"Give me a second," Kyle grits out between clenched teeth.
Cartman realizes what's happening and barks a laugh. "My ass feels that good, huh?"
Kyle huffs and rolls his eyes. "Shut up." He knows Cartman's trying to sound smug but it doesn't really work with how breathless he is.
Steeling himself, Kyle finally moves again and rolls his hips into Cartman's body, making him cry out and claw at Kyle's back. He cautiously picks up the pace, now that the sheer pleasure has passed enough that it isn't threatening to drown him. They rock together, and the world falls away except for the heat of their bodies, the touch of their skin pressed together, the sound of Cartman's heavy breaths in his ear.
He loves this. He fucking loves it.
"God, you feel so good," Kyle blurts against Cartman's skin, euphoria overriding his usual brain-to-mouth filter. "I'm so fucking happy you're here." He presses a few wet kisses to Cartman's neck, moaning softly.
"J-Jesus, Kyle," Cartman murmurs, caught off guard at Kyle's honesty.
The shitty bunk bed creaks quietly with their movement.
Whining, Cartman pulls Kyle's head away from his neck and brings their lips together, sliding his tongue into Kyle's mouth and fisting his hair with both hands. Kyle groans, his hips stuttering a little at the combination of sensations pushing his pleasure higher and higher.
"Fuck me harder," Cartman pleads against his lips. Kyle grits his teeth and obliges, speeding up enough to start building up a sweat, every meeting of their hips making a quiet smack from the impact of skin against skin. In response Cartman lets out an appreciative moan, grunting softly every time Kyle fucks into him.
"God, yes Kyle. Give it to me, c'mon—"
Kyle's breath hitches. He growls and channels all of his pent-up frustration into every one of his thrusts. He fucking loves this, but he's still so angry that they've both gone without it for so long, angry that Cartman had to pull such a reckless, idiotic stunt for it to happen at all.
Cartman kisses and licks up Kyle's sweaty neck before taking his earlobe into his mouth, sucking for a second before biting down. Kyle gasps at the shock of pleasure that shoots up his spine.
"Ah—! F-fuck, Eric—"
Cartman cries out and rocks his hips up higher, harder, scratching and clawing at Kyle's back, and he starts babbling breathlessly.
"Oh my fucking God, Kyle, yes. Come on baby, that's it. God, you're so hot, I love you so fucking much…" He moans directly into his ear and Kyle shudders, the words making his chest swell and his dick throb at the same time. All he can do to respond is clutch Cartman closer and kiss him, their tongues sliding together, tasting each other, moaning into each other's mouths.
Cartman jacks his own dick fervently between their bodies, his legs twitching and back arching higher with every passing second. Kyle can tell he's getting close so he steels himself and sits back on his haunches, hooking both arms under Cartman's thighs to tilt his lower body up, making Cartman yelp and bite his lip. Kyle rocks into him fast and deep at an angle that he knows from experience is nailing Cartman's prostate with every thrust.
By now Cartman's trembling like he always does when he gets super into it. On one particularly good hit, he gasps.
"Hah-ah–! Fuck, you're so deep—" Cartman says, gazing up at Kyle with lust and adoration that makes Kyle's heart sputter. He presses a wet kiss to the inside of Cartman's knee simply because it's the closest part of him to his mouth.
Cartman groans and throws his head back, his whimpers getting higher and higher pitched until he comes with a warbling groan, still pumping his dick as he shoots off between their torsos. Kyle gasps as he feels Cartman's body squeeze rhythmically around his cock. He watches Cartman's face contort with pleasure, one hand gripping the sheets like a vice, swearing and murmuring Kyle's name.
God, it's so fucking hot watching him come. It's Cartman at his most honest, so overwhelmed with pleasure that it's impossible for him to hide behind his usual bullshit mind-games. Kyle can clearly see every emotion he's feeling written on his face. It's honestly incredible.
Kyle stares until he can't take it anymore and has to look away, his own emotions suddenly too much to bear. He curses and moans and thrusts faster, over and over until the cord inside of him snaps and the pleasure crests. He comes hard and grinds deep into Cartman's body with every pulse of his cock, gritting his teeth, gasping at the intensity of the endorphins flooding through him.
Catharsis at its finest.
It takes a moment before the euphoria starts to die down, both of them still trembling. A bead of sweat drips down Kyle's temple.
Kyle finally releases Cartman's legs and collapses on top of him, panting like a racehorse.
"Holy shit," he breathes.
"Goddamn… That was fucking awesome," Cartman murmurs, reaching up and lazily combing his fingers through Kyle's hair. He shoots him a delirious smile. "Hmm. And to think we could have been doing this all along. I shoulda thought of visiting you forever ago."
Kyle thwacks him on the shoulder. "Shut up Eric, you're gonna make me lose my job."
"Eh. Worth it."
"Dude."
"Hey, come on, you were into it!"
Kyle can't deny that, so instead he sighs and says, "Yeah, I kinda needed that."
"Aha! So you admit it!"
Kyle rolls his eyes. "Uh, yeah? I missed you too, asshole."
Cartman sputters and blushes.
"Well alright then," he concedes. Kyle gives him a small smile. He loves it when he manages to get Cartman all flustered.
The post-orgasmic high starts to wear down and Kyle's exhaustion from being awake for nearly thirty hours catches up to him again. He feels like he could sleep for ten years. Kyle reluctantly props himself up again and gently pulls out. Cartman grunts and arches his back a little.
"Shit, sorry," Kyle says.
"S'okay," Cartman murmurs, eyes closed. "Doesn't hurt, I just missed having your cum in me."
Kyle grimaces. "Ugh— dude. Gross."
"Like I said: worth it."
Standing up again, Kyle walks to the attached bathroom and wipes off the various liquids that have accumulated on his body over the past fifteen minutes as best he can. Afterwards he grabs a shitload of paper towels, wetting a few in the sink, then walks back and helps Cartman clean up and look presentable again. Cartman always enjoys it when Kyle takes care of him, maybe a little too much. It's unsurprising that he likes being doted upon, the fucking princess.
Luckily, Kyle had the wherewithal to bring an extra pair of scrubs to work so he changes and spends a quick minute at the mirror trying to get his hair to chill the fuck out. Cartman ran his hands through it so many times he's starting to resemble Bozo.
It's another gigantic stroke of luck that no one caught them having sex in the goddamn call room. Kyle's too tired to chew Cartman out for pulling three peoples' fucking ventilators, so he resigns himself to doing that once he gets home. He hopes to God they're all okay.
So much for that oath he took to 'do no harm.' Fucking hell. This is what he gets for dating such a goddamn lunatic.
"Alright, you gotta get out of here," Kyle says, pulling Cartman to his feet.
Cartman pouts. "Aw, come on, can't I just hide out here?"
"No, dumbass, someone will definitely fucking see you. Go home." Kyle starts pushing him out the door.
"Ugggh," Cartman groans, then huffs petulantly. "Fine, fine, whatever. Have fun saving lives and shit. I'm gonna go get some very satisfying beauty sleep."
"Don't rub it in, dickhead."
Kyle pauses his pushing to turn Cartman around and give him a brief but heavy kiss. When he pulls away, Cartman's got a dopey Charlie-Brown-esque smile on his face.
"Bye. I'll see you at home," Kyle says.
But before Cartman can turn around again, Kyle's eyes widen with horror as he realizes his co-intern, Priya, is standing a few feet away, blatantly staring at them. She's a short Indian woman, a few years older than Kyle, and he's never seen her look so fucking shocked.
Fuck.
She darts her eyes back and forth between Kyle and Cartman. Realization slowly dawns on her face and she blinks for a good few seconds.
"Uh…" Kyle says stupidly.
"Oh, hello! Who's this, Kyle?" Cartman asks, pitching his voice high.
Kyle doesn't say anything, just keeps staring back at Priya with wide eyes and tries not to die from embarrassment.
Priya clears her throat. "I'm, uh. I'm Priya. Er— Dr. Priyanka Ramakrishnan. Hi," she says awkwardly.
Cartman eases into his bullshitting mode and gives her a smile that Kyle knows is false, but others see as friendly and charming.
"It's very nice to meet you, Dr. Ramakrishnan! Eric Cartman, at your service." Cartman offers his hand to her, and she takes it haltingly. Kyle's honestly surprised he didn't completely butcher the pronunciation.
"Nice to meet you too," she says, side-eyeing Kyle. Watching the exchange, Kyle feels like his brain is going to explode. What the fuck is his life right now?
They break the handshake and Cartman turns to give Kyle a wicked smile. This motherfucker just loves watching Kyle squirm. Fucking bastard.
"Welp, I'll see you later, Kyle!" Cartman says obnoxiously. He twiddles his fingers to wave at him and holds eye contact knowingly before he turns and struts down the hallway.
Kyle seethes and clenches his hands into fists as an overwhelming desire for violence takes over him. When he gets home, Kyle's gonna fucking kill him.
Priya and Kyle stand in painfully awkward silence for a hot second.
"Uh… who was that?" Priya finally asks, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb.
Kyle's gut drops with dread.
Goddammit. He can't fucking lie to her. She's way too smart for that. Plus there will definitely be future work parties and various social functions he'll be obligated to bring Cartman to, so there's no way she won't figure it out eventually.
"That was, um. My boyfriend," he admits haltingly.
She gives Kyle a weird look and once again darts her gaze back and forth between him and Cartman, who's so visibly happy he's practically skipping down the hall towards the elevators.
With a heavy sigh, she pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Look, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone but…" she looks up and gives Kyle a judgmental look that rivals his mother's. "Fucking hell, Kyle. Really? Really?"
Kyle covers his face with his hands and groans with unbearable embarrassment.
"I know, I know, I'm so sorry," he says. "He just fucking showed up on his own, alright? It's not like I planned this!"
"Oh my God," she says quietly, still processing the situation. "Kyle, you are one crazy bastard."
"Tell me something I don't know," he deadpans.
She shakes her head again, but then her judgemental look changes to amusement and she chuckles.
"What?" Kyle asks with trepidation.
"It's just… Wow," she says, smiling. "Well hey, congrats on getting laid. I'm gonna go take a nap." She slaps her hand on his back as she walks past him into the call room.
Kyle covers his face again and swears repeatedly under his breath before following her reluctantly through the threshold.
"Don't use the bottom bunk," he warns.
Priya laughs her ass off.
oooooooooo
END
oooooooooo
*author's note: Good thing Kyle doesn't work with no fuckin' snitches lmao. Anyway this ship is ruining my life ahahahaa ;_; they're both so stupid
Thanks for reading!