Kyle hadn't been to Cartman's house in over two years. All day he had been trying to figure out how stepping foot in the Cartman residence could bring him physical harm, but he couldn't think of anything specific so after school he found himself following Cartman through the front door and up the stairs to the brown-haired boy's room.
Why had Cartman be so insistent that they study at his house instead of the library? Kyle was certainly suspicious, but thus far their study sessions had only consisted of studying so he decided to let his guard down. But only slightly.
The house was intensely familiar. The whole group used to spend so much time hanging out there, playing video games and coming up with wild ideas to save the world. Or in Cartman's case, destroy it. He noticed Liane wasn't around to offer them any snacks like she used to when they were kids, but he decided not to comment on it.
Kyle laid out his homework on Cartman's desk while Cartman brought over a second chair. As they settled into their rhythm of working on separate assignments, with the occasional question posed by Cartman, Kyle noticed the energy was definitely different. Cartman's usual apathetic resignation had a new nervous edge. Kyle wanted to believe that it was a coincidence, and not because a new stage of Cartman's evil plan was coming to fruition. Though from past experience, it was likely the latter.
It was warm in Cartman's room. Within fifteen minutes, Kyle had removed all but his t-shirt, jeans, and shoes. He was in the middle of removing his hat when he noticed Cartman was staring at him.
"What?" Kyle asked, annoyed. He almost fell out of his chair when Cartman reached out to touch his hair, poking at the mass of curls.
"I just don't understand how your hair is able to defy gravity like that."
"Hey!" Kyle said, pushing Cartman's hand away, "I thought we agreed that you're not allowed to touch me."
"Oh yeah." Cartman brought his hand over to prop up his head. "What a stupid rule."
"Stupid rule?" Kyle was a little offended. "I think it's pretty fucking reasonable after what happened last time."
Cartman laughed. "What? Are you afraid I'm going to give you another concussion?"
Kyle glared at him and stood up to leave. "Fuck you, Cartman. I'm done tutoring you. You're a dick and I would be doing everyone a favor by letting you fail out of high school." He started gathering his stuff, shoving his books angrily into his backpack.
"Kyle! Don't be like that! I was just joking! Still too soon to joke about it?" Cartman laughed nervously and then when Kyle didn't stop packing, he stood up and grabbed Kyle's wrist. Cartman's grip was firm and Kyle couldn't pull away.
"Let go," Kyle said darkly. He didn't want to show it, but he was really afraid of how strong Cartman was.
Cartman's gaze was steady. "Then stay."
Kyle felt his face heating up with anger. "I'm here to do you a favor and you can't even respect the one condition I set."
Cartman must've seen the fear in Kyle's expression because he slowly exhaled and then released him. "I'm sorry. Seriouslah. I just don't want you to leave." He sat back down at the desk.
Kyle didn't move. He felt incredibly confused and anxious. He stared at his wrist where Cartman's hand had been. Without consciously deciding to, he sat back down at the desk.
Cartman looked surprised. "Thanks," he said softly. Kyle nodded and began to take his books back out of his bag. Just then he felt something sharp bite into the side of his hand.
"Ow! Fuck!"
He must've jabbed it onto a lose pencil or something. He quickly examined the cut. It didn't look too bad. A little blood, but nothing serious.
"Hey do you have any bandages, Cartman? I think I cut myself." Kyle looked up and was startled to see Cartman bent over with his head in his hands. His breathing was ragged. "Um, are you okay?"
Cartman's voice came out slightly hoarse. "Sorry… Migraine."
"Oh. Fuck. Um, do you take any medicine for them? I could get you–"
"No! It's fine." Cartman stood up quickly, still holding his head. "Need air." He began to walk out of the room, but instead he tripped on the leg of Kyle's chair and fell smack onto his face.
"Oh shit!" Kyle jumped up to see if Cartman was okay. As Cartman began to lift himself up Kyle saw blood was dripping out of his nose and down his face. "Shit! Holy shit! You're bleeding!"
Cartman groaned. "Too much blood…"
"Oh fuck. Hang on. I'll get you a tissue!" Kyle hurried out of the room and down the hallway to grab a handful of toilet paper from the bathroom. He ripped it off the roll and began running back, but stopped in the doorway when he saw Cartman had followed him. "Here I got you–"
Just then Cartman pushed Kyle into bathroom and up against the wall. Kyle's words caught in his throat from surprise. Cartman's face looked terrifying, shiny with sweat and blood. His pupils were dilated and his breathing was heavy. He grabbed the toilet paper from Kyle's trembling hand, and suddenly his eyes fixated on the small trail of blood making its way down Kyle's wrist. Without hesitation, Cartman pulled the side of Kyle's hand into his mouth.
Kyle gasped. The pressure of Cartman's tongue stung, but it also felt... electric. Warmth was slowly spreading all the way up Kyle's arm and through his entire body. Kyle's eyes closed instinctually, and a small moan escaped his lips. Cartman continued to firmly lick and suck at the cut on his hand. When Kyle finally managed to pry his eyes open he saw blood was still dripping out of Cartman's nose, streaming in messy trails down both their arms. The gory, erotic image before him made him feel a little faint. What the fuck was happening? He was vaguely aware of the warmth now pulsing between his legs, but he wasn't able to focus clearly on anything except where Cartman's mouth was connected to his skin. From downstairs, Kyle heard the front door open.
"Pookie-kins? I'm home!"
Liane's high pitched greeting ripped the intensity of the moment from the room. Cartman staggered backward looking confused. Kyle blinked rapidly trying to remember his surroundings. They briefly made eye contact and were startled back to reality. Cartman looked shell-shocked as he lifted the toilet paper he had taken from Kyle's hand to his nose.
"T-thanks for the-" he began, but Kyle was already running out of the bathroom. In a matter of seconds, he grabbed as much of his shit as he could carry in his arms and ran downstairs, past Liane, and through the still open front door. He heard her begin to say something, but he was already halfway down the block before she could finish the thought.
When he was out of sight of Cartman's house and he was sure he wasn't being followed, he dropped his stuff on the sidewalk and fell to his knees. He was out of breath from running, and he felt extremely embarrassed as he noticed the vague warmth in his groin was now urgently pressing into the front of his jeans. His t-shirt was stained with Cartman's blood.
After his body had finally began to calm down, he was able to pick himself up and walk the rest of the way to his house. It wasn't until later that evening that he realized the cut on his hand was gone.