He didn't think he'd ever had such a major migraine in his life. Kyle groaned, shifting on his couch and settling down against the cushions exhaustedly, rearranging the small Ziploc of ice resting against his nose. What little he could smell was overtaken with the scent of mint leaves simmering in a pot on his stove, an old trick his mother used to use when he and Ike would have headaches after school; setting them up in the kitchen with the curtains drawn and the lights off and just letting the smell guide them through the pains of exams. Whether or not it was truly helpful or merely a placebo, Kyle didn't know, nor did he care. It was something to help, and lord knew he needed every bit of assistance he could get.

He sighed tiredly with the reminder. He still hadn't called his mother to come visit her and his father for dinner. But then again, he usually saved his visits for whenever Ike rolled back into town from Boulder, not able to handle the stress of their mother on his own anymore. He had enough going on that was willing to scream at him to get his life together. He glanced up towards his ceiling, alit a rosy glow from only his desk lamp switched on, relishing in the quiet moment. Figures it'd take a punch to the face for him to slow the fuck down for just a little bit, force him to take a few breaths. His eyes glazed over tiredly. A part of him just wanted to go to bed, but he knew well enough that even if he wasn't expecting a certain visitor, lying in his room would accomplish nothing. He'd eventually be trudging back out to get a drink and settle at his computer until he finally passed out on his keyboard.

Same story, different day.

He glanced over towards the back of his couch as that knocking pattern emerged, a smile crawling up his lips. "It's unlocked!" he called, wincing at the decibels of his own voice. A moment passed before the pane slid open, hearing the telltale thump and roll of Mysterion's entrance. The window was placed back down before a shadow appeared over him, his fuzzy eyes adjusting to the vision of a cape. "Hi," he said softly.

"Are you all right?" Mysterion asked worriedly, kneeling down beside him.

Kyle nodded softly, taking the ice off his nose and his face scrunched uncomfortably. "Cartman fucking punched me. I'm trying to get the swelling down."

He heard a growl breaking through the hero's throat before gloved hands cupped the sides of his face, thumbs rubbing circles on his temple. Mysterion's eyes drifted over the damage, anger spiking through him yet again before he forced it down. "Looks like it's not too swollen," he commented, leaning down and carefully planting a lingering kiss on his lips. "Want me to go?" he whispered.

Kyle shook his head, struggling to sit himself up. Mysterion ducked down and assisted him, sliding up to sit behind him and hold him steady. Kyle sighed, leaning back against his shoulder and glancing back up at the ceiling, tossing his half-melted pack on his coffee table. "I want this to end," he said quietly.

Mysterion froze, "Wait, us?"

"No, you idiot," he rolled his eyes. "The whole situation. Cartman and… and banks… and getting fucking hit," he sunk further into the hero, head drooping in defeat. Mysterion twisted his lips, peeling off his gloves and throwing them aside, reattaching his hands to his shoulders and the back of his neck, slowly kneading at the skin. Kyle's eyes widened, nearing the point of protest before melting back into the working hands with a breath of a moan and a lazy smile. "You know, if this hero thing doesn't work out, I'll just hire you for this," he joked.

Mysterion snorted, "Well, it's nice to have a fallback. And you know, pay a little extra and I can give you a… happy ending," he breathed hotly on the back of his neck, grinning wildly at a lengthy shudder running down Kyle's spine.

"Dude, don't be a corny asshole," he rolled his eyes, trying to save some hint of face. He blinked, glancing down at slender fingers moving in front of him to work down his tie, slowly unbuttoning the first few holes of his dress shirt. His mind fleeted over options, in a whirlwind of loss and excitement until the hands slid back, working down the loosened collar to get better coverage of his neck to massage. Mysterion smirked, feeling him flying through tensing motions at every move he made. But he wasn't protesting and slapping him away. He had that at the very least.

He leaned forward, planting a kiss against the nape of his neck. "What happened with Fatass?" he prodded gently.

Kyle sighed, biting his lip at another soft kiss. "Um, I-I went to his office… to see if there were cameras."

"Mhm?" he mumbled from his skin, dragging wet lips across the sparse freckles dancing along what little of his back was exposed in the low lighting like constellations, full galaxies all for him to explore.

"Kashkov and Burke were there. Cartman wouldn't let me leave," he grumbled, head leaning back with a gentle nip on his shoulder. "I-I got stupid, he baited me and I fucking took it. Like an idiot."

Mysterion shook his head, nose brushing along wisps of curled hair. "You're not an idiot. You were stressed."

"Yeah, well I should know better. I'm always stressed with h-him!" he squeaked at a firm peck in the crook of his neck, feeling Mysterion's hood pressing against him, trying to absorb him in the with him. Kyle's head was spinning, and not in the unpleasant way it had been for the last few hours. Mysterion had given him a few kisses on the neck here and there their last week, but never like this. Not this close and intimate. He could barely remember his own name at this point, let alone what the hell he'd dealt with at ten a.m. A husky chuckle vibrated against his neck and he all but seeped straight back into the hero, his head turning a bit to expose his throat further, Mysterion taking his invitation with gusto.

"Keep goin'," he purred, hands trailing down, rubbing over the small of his back.

Kyle gulped, shaking fingers going to reach behind him and hook around Mysterion's shoulder, clench in the fabric of his cape. "W-we just threatened each other and he hit my nose. That… that was it," he breathed, letting out as suppressed a moan as he could manage at suckling beginning to turn harsher, teeth and tongue breaking over his skin like the most natural thing in the world. Kyle couldn't exactly say that this was anything but.

Mysterion grinned. "Do you want me to stop?" he breathed hotly.

"No," he said, voice partially demanding, cracking halfway through into a desperate plea. The man nodded, continuing his loving assault, hands beginning to dip and trace around Kyle's hipbones. The redhead's jaw quivered, blood seeping out of his aching head and redirecting to slam his cock against his zipper furiously.

"Anything else happen?" Mysterion asked, tone grating and lazy, Kyle imagining that maybe that was the man's natural voice after waking from a deep sleep, sounding content and warm, filled with the notion of comfort personified.

He nodded, letting out an audible gasp as careful fingers traced up to the button of his slacks, playing under his waistband and just barely dipping beneath the fabric, waiting for Kyle to tell him no.

Like hell he was going to.

"I-I learned that… Boomslang is Larson," he breathed.

"Hm," He mused, nodding as he slipped his hands to undo his button, grinning as he peered down over Kyle's shoulder, seeing the result of his work. "Thought he wasn't up at the top." He shoved down Kyle's boxers, grasping the hard hot skin and watching Kyle's jaw drop open and his entire body quiver. The redhead whimpered, a sound that brought an aching shiver down Mysterion's spine, his own hardening skin pressing urgently against Kyle's backside. "Come on, Kyle, lead me through it," he whispered, breath scorching, nearly searing the ends of Kyle's hair.

A thumb slid across the head beginning to bead with fluid, Kyle shaking. "I-I guess I was w-wrong," he stammered. The hand and head on his shoulder left him for a moment and he nearly whined out in disappointment before the clear sound of Mysterion spitting came from behind him, the redhead arching up with a gasp as a wet hand wrapped back around him, stroking smoothly along his shaft. His body was set aflame, every ache and pain previously had melting away with Mysterion's oh-so-precise touch. "Oh fuck," he moaned, head leaning back lucidly.

"What do you think he does?" the hero asked casually, amazed at his ability to keep his own voice steady, so enraptured with Kyle's twitching and sounds that he could barely remember where he even was. All he knew was he had Kyle turning to pure putty in his hands, a feat he was never certain could be attained by anyone, let alone himself. "According to my source, he delivered the goods so they could be ran."

"So he's the supplier," he whispered, hips arching against the even stroking. Back and forth he tugged, back and forth Kyle's comprehension swung. His own hand dipped down, curving awkwardly between them and grasping Mysterion's own rising bulge. The hero hissed, biting down on his shoulder sharply, giving a hard tug against Kyle's cock. "There to… Uses office to…" he lost himself in a string of moans, Mysterion's teeth delving in just a bit further.

His tongue slid around the moistened skin, "Come on, tell me what the office is for," he bit out, eyes clenching at Kyle's hand rubbing against him so precisely.

"For… for coordinating," he whimpered, sweat beginning to dot his skin, wanting more than just the covered cock in his hand. He wanted- no- needed pure skin. He jerked up with his teeth gritted, pivoting in the surprised hero's hold and launching back forward, lips slamming against the other man's. Mysterion's eyes widened before slipping closed, bringing him forward to straddle over his lap. Kyle moaned, hands tracing up and gripping around his hood, forcing him closer up against him, hips pushing down against Mysterion's, feeling the heat from his cock against his own even through the layers of fabric. "You're not playing fair," he hissed.

"I'm just… tryin' to help you get rid of that headache," he teased breathlessly, fingers reaching up and tearing down more of his shirt buttons, face redirecting to latch teeth onto his chest. Kyle whined, awkwardly fumbling over and under the heavy cape, finding the coil zipper of his jumpsuit and starting to tear it down. Mysterion lurched back, "Kyle you can't-"

"Keep the mask on, I don't care, just get this fucking suit off," he snapped, reattaching himself to his lips. Mysterion blinked, mouth curling up and biting down on his bottom lip, grabbing his hips and grinding up against him.

"Sure you wanna fuck a stranger?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, "I've fucked people I've known less time than you, Asshole. Take off your fuckin-" they both stopped, heads shooting towards the coffee table at a frantic vibration, Kyle's phone's screen alit as it slid across the surface. Kyle glanced, eyes narrowing at the display before rolling dramatically. "Stan, go away," he groaned.

"Take it," Mysterion urged. Last thing they needed was Stan to come bursting through the door to save Kyle from the evils of his cock or whatever other ridiculous notion the detective had.

Kyle sighed irritably, leaning over with Mysterion holding him around his back and snagging the device, switching it open. "What?!" he bit, the hero stifling a laugh.

"Jesus fucking Christ, sorry, Your Majesty," Stan said dryly. "Look, I'm at the office and I found something-"

Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Why are you still at the office? You should've been home like… five hours ago."

"Was looking into the two criminals brought in last night, the ones linked to your company's storage unit," he answered quietly.

The redhead blinked, slowly climbing off of Mysterion's lap and beside of him, switching the device onto speaker phone. "What about them?" he asked.

Stan paused, clearing his throat, "Well… not so much about them. It's about the storage facility… Ky, is Cartman involved with any other companies that you know of? Anything that he links to CartAd?"

"Not to my knowledge, no?" he raised his brow suspiciously. "I've never done paperwork for any other property."

"We found executive cards on the criminals," He explained. "They claimed that they work for the facility, and it was confirmed by one of the co-owners, since the other owner was one of the ones at the building. And since the attack was on the unit assigned specifically towards your company… Well I'm willing to bet that they're part of the whole group, right?"

Kyle straightened up, narrowing his eyes. "Stan. You need to do a raid."

He scoffed, "Ky, I can't. Kind of need a warrant for that one. And when it's only one unit broken into, and no evidence pointing towards a deeper connection with something, then I have no probable cause to search the premises."

"Wow. Thanks, Captain Codebook," he rolled his eyes. 'More like Captain Cockblock,' he thought bitterly before shaking himself back to attention, "Well… what do you suggest?"

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "I thought if maybe you knew about him having involvement in other facilities, I could look further into it. But if you don't well... Guess we're kind of just stuck."

Kyle glanced towards Mysterion's face, feeling the concern hiding within the confines of his hood. "No, we're not. This gives me an idea. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Stan."

The man paused, "Wait. What's your idea?"

"Some office files I need to peruse, that's all," he said casually. "Thanks, Stan. Go home before Wendy murders you."

The noirette let out a lengthy sigh. "All right, fine. Be careful. Call me sometime tomorrow."

"Will do. Good night," he finished, hanging up the phone and glancing towards Mysterion with a heavy breath. "We need to go to CartAd. Right now," he said, standing and redoing his pants, fighting to shove down his flagging erection.

Mysterion nearly groaned in disappointment, unable to find stance in his legs to get up just yet. "I mean… twenty minutes, half hour and we can?" he tried.

Kyle smirked and shook his head. "Look, I'm not happy about it either, but I'm not exactly gonna be one-hundred percent if I'm thinking about what could be at the office." The hero sighed and nodded, forcing himself to stand and snag his gloves to slip back on. Kyle glanced down, raising an amused brow. "Want a hoodie to tie around your waist? That suit doesn't leave much to the imagination."

"Well, this was kind of unprecedented when I was designing it," he huffed, wrapping his cape around his hip and pouting. "What exactly do you think you're gonna find?" Kyle shrugged dismissively, working off his shirt and going for his hoodie lying on the back of his chair. "You're really not helping my problem," Mysterion grumbled, eyes lingering on the purple and red marks beginning to splotch over his shoulder and neck.

"Yeah well you walk around in skintight shit nonstop, so welcome to my hell," he said flatly. "And Stan's right. Those idiots were part of the group, and if they were employees of the company, I'm willing to bet that Cartman bought it outright to pass off for some of his fucking cronies to handle. And I know Fatass well enough to know that he doesn't leave financial records regarding his property out."

Mysterion cocked his brow, "Well that's probably stuff he has at home."

Kyle shook his head, slipping on his sweatshirt and zipping it up, walking into the kitchen quickly to turn off his mint leaf pot. "No, he's too lazy for that. When I started working there, he had me route up a server that went between his home and work computer so he wouldn't have to carry around fucking flash drives. We find out if there's other companies listed-"

"We maybe find more places and people involved in all this shit," he finished. Kyle nodded sharply, snagging his keys and ID from the desk.

"Let's drive there. We'll park in the empty lot down the road and walk the rest of the way," he suggested. "We'll have to figure something out for getting past my door though, I don't know how to turn off the fucking lights."

Mysterion nodded slowly, "We'll figure it out. Any idea how to get into his files, though?"

Kyle cocked his brow haughtily, "He had me set up his server for a reason. C'mon." Mysterion smirked, following him out into the night. Well, at least he accomplished his goal; Kyle's headache seemed gone. And he was back in the game.

"Will you stop?!" Kyle hissed, batting off the protective hands on his shoulders.

Mysterion frowned, "Well I'm sorry. After last night I'm a little fucking wary."

The redhead rolled his eyes, both of them slipping together behind trees heading towards the CartAd building, hiding from streetlamps all that they could. "Why worry? You have a gun," he drawled. "Didn't peg you for the right-to-carry type," he grumbled.

Mysterion snorted, shaking his head. "It ain't a real gun," he assured him. "It's a damn water gun I painted." He pulled it out and Kyle winced as he pointed it to his hand, squirting water into his glove. "See? Don't worry, I'm as pro-control as you… kinda," he shrugged, tucking it back in his belt.

"Kinda," he repeated flatly, the two of them glancing around towards the empty lot, sneaking out of the little wooden median between businesses and running up to CartAd, hugging the side of the building as they crept along towards the front doors.

"Well I have a gun, it's just, you know, at home. Where it should be," he shrugged.

Kyle hummed, rolling his eyes. "Well. You're halfway sane then, I guess." Mysterion just shook his head again, following Kyle as he rounded the corner, half-jogging up to the front door. The accountant sighed, "Really wish I knew how to cut the lights," he murmured.

"Seriously," he agreed. "But whatever. If it's only the camera in your office, then we really don't have much to worry about." Kyle nodded, flashing his ID and the both of them slipping into the foyer, wincing at the automatic fluorescents kicking on. "Wait, are you wanting me to pick Cartman's lock?" he asked.

"Nah, I have a way to get in," he waved at him dismissively, leading him past the security booth and down the row of cubicles. He snagged his keys out of his pocket, gripping them tightly as they ascended the stairs. "My assistant is good for literally one thing," he drawled, hitting the landing and watching the row of lights in front of them kick on. "He has spare keys. For my office… and for Cartman's," he said casually. "And I have the key to his office." He snagged Butters' door key, jamming it into the deadbolt and shoving it open, flipping on the light and sighing at the mess of his desk. "Jesus fucking Christ, no wonder he loses papers," he muttered, stepping up to his desk and ripping the top drawer open as Mysterion lingered in the doorway, keeping a sharp ear out for anyone else that may be lurking around. Kyle grumbled, his fingers digging around the metal of the shelving, slipping upwards into the tight, sharp space between the surface and drawer holder. He hit a ring and smirked, pulling out Butters' key set, marked with a small 'K' and 'E'. They clinked together and he frowned, cocking his head.

Mysterion caught his look and blinked, "What's wrong?"

Kyle placed the keys together, flipping them back and forth before looking at the hero with his face twisted. "They're the same key."

"What?" he blinked.

"Look, they're the same!" he exclaimed, walking up beside him and showing him the identical set, whipping out his own key and lining them all up side-by-side. "So Cartman can get into my office no fucking problem. He's supposed to sign a sheet that Butters keeps for the two of us, you know, so neither of us steals shit," he drawled. "That son of a bitch has been goin' in and out of my office this whole damn time," he frowned, taking the keys and walking back to the desk to shove them back into place, slamming the drawer shut. "Son of a bitch."

Mysterion winced. "Hate to say it, but are you really that surprised?"

He pouted, leading him out in the hallway and shutting off Butters' light, closing and locking the door behind him. "No, doesn't mean I can't be pissed…" he paused, glancing at his office down the way. "The angle shows a little through the glass beside my door. How we doin' this?"

"Like this," he shrugged, grabbing him and tucking him under his cape, both of them moving briskly down the hall. "Head down," he ordered, both of them ducking their heads as he held up the other side of his cape to block the camera view, not dropping it until they hit the corner of the hall.

Kyle smirked up at him, "Good thing you dress like a toddler," he teased, leading the way to Cartman's office.

He returned the expression, following with a casual shrug. "Well, I couldn't convince you to stay to get you in my pants, so my cape will have to do."

Kyle looked at him wryly, going to unlock Cartman's door and sighing. "You know, I wasn't exactly eager to cut it short either. You know how fucking long it's been since I've been laid? Too goddamn long, that's how long," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh you were willing for all the way, huh?" he sang.

"Would you have complained?"

"God no," he shook his head briskly.

He straightened up primly, shoving the door open and flipping on the light. "Then I suggest you shut your fucking mouth about it unless you wanna lose the chance of it coming to fruition, Buddy."

Mysterion chuckled, "How cruel." He scoped the ceiling as Kyle made way for Cartman's computer, nodding slowly. "Yeah, looks clear."

"I mean, it's not a guaranteed thing, but we'll have to risk it," he muttered, waking the computer from its sleep. Mysterion walked over beside him, watching as he settled in the chair and rolled his eyes. "Must be nice to have a decent chair," he said bitterly, quickly typing in his own information.

The hero cocked his head, "Wait, his files are on your account?"

He shook his head. "No. But his website information is all shared on the network, and it should have a better chance of being saved on his computer than my own. I disabled the VPN between ours and Butters' computers a good six months ago when I needed to get into some bank statements."

"Okay…?"

"And if there's anything Fatass is, it's a creature of habit. Because going outside a habit doesn't stay true to his lazy self, right?"

He nodded slowly, "Right?"

Kyle quickly logged into his internet browser, searching along the top-lining options and clicking his tongue. "And Cartman is the type who would set his passwords to be remembered on websites. I set up the proxy server between here and his home computer to not encrypt his files, for his convenience," he mocked. "Because God forbid he have to make a little more effort to keep documents secure…" his eyes hit a button labeled 'Show saved passwords', quickly selecting it and watching a plethora of sites popping into view. He glanced through at the multitude of social media sites, wishing that he had the damn time to play around with all this shit. He clicked on Cartman's Facebook link, eyes darting to the side to see the unencrypted password and his face fell monotonously. "Am I really looking at 'WizardMrKitty0701' right now?"

Mysterion snorted, "And I thought my passwords were childish."

"I'm just… I'm not even surprised," he shook his head, clicking through a few more links, double checking to see if the pattern remained true. "My life is at risk from a goddamn man stuck with in his ten-year-old brain," he scoffed. He hummed and logged out of his account, switching to Cartman's admin login and biting his lip. "Here's to hopin'," he murmured, re-entering the password and grinning at the loading screen coming to life. "We're in."

"And you didn't even have to type in green text on a black screen. Look at you," he teased.

"Well I mean… I have the attire right," he shook the collar of his dark hoodie a bit. Mysterion let out a husky laugh, leaning down and kissing the top of his head. Kyle blushed and cleared his throat, eyes focusing as Cartman's desktop began to spring up one folder at a time. "Jesus Christ look at this chaos," he shook his head at the disorganization splattered about. "They're not even in rows."

Mysterion shrugged, "Looks like my computer."

"Ugh, why am I not surprised," he huffed, trailing with his mouse over different files, biting at his knuckle as he read through the disaster. He paused, honing his sight in on a file marked 'Jew'. "What the fuck," he whispered, clicking on it and blinking in confusion at two more folders spanning before him. He selected the first, scratching at his hair as Cartman's media player popped into view, split into two screens; One labeled work, one labeled home, both black with a 'currently offline' subtitle. "What the shit?"

Mysterion cocked his head, "What… what is that?"

"I have no fucking idea," he said, stunned. "But it's labeled fucking 'Jew' so I know exactly who it's for…" He closed out of the program and selected the second file, watching a span of subfolders appearing beneath.

The hero leaned closer, raising his brow. "What the hell is a 'Bazzi'?"

"I'm not sure…" he muttered, clicking on it and watching as a document with a simple '24.0889, 32.8998 ' listed. "Huh," he said, pulling out his phone.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Looks like longitude and latitude to me," he murmured, pulling up his search bar and entering the digits, narrowing his eyes at the result. "Aswan?"

Mysterion blinked, "The Jesus lion?"

He rolled his eyes, "No, you moron. Aswan. It's a city in Egypt. Bazzi is an Arabic surname." He paused, closing out of the document and running his eyes over the list. "These all look like surnames… what the fuck kind of list is this?"

"Maybe he saved it in the wrong place," he suggested with a shrug. Kyle nodded slowly, a strange, twisting feeling in his stomach. He pressed it down, closing out of the folder and going back to scanning around. No time for that, he had another list to find and he didn't have all damn night.

"Locale maybe," he murmured, clicking on the folder and watching a slue of documents pop into place. "These are addresses… forty of 'em," he said before pausing, looking up at Kenny. "Last night you were about to say something about the files before those fucks came in, what was it?"

He blinked before his mind clicked with the reminder. "Right. So I saw a meeting go down awhile back. The guy I caught sent the other off telling them numbers to go to. I'm thinkin' they link to the files you found."

Kyle nodded slowly. "All the files had addresses on them… so we were on Custer road last night…" he scanned through, pressing his glasses back up his sore nose and landing on the prominent name, clicking on it rapidly. They watched with raised brows as a copy of the page Kyle stole popped up in front of them with a subfolder popping beneath it. Kyle selected the picture, both of them coming face to face with one of the men from the night before. "That's the guy who grabbed me," Kyle confirmed. "He's number… 26 looks like." The redhead hummed, clicking out of the picture and opening the subdocument. "And lookie here, we have ourselves a property lease. Owned by 'Michael Brosnen.' I'm willing to bet that's another alias. I feel like I saw it on one of our lists," he glanced back.

"Great," he murmured. "So Cartman put the business under him. So his hands, of course, are fucking clean."

Kyle nodded sharply. "All right, so we know what he's doing. He's buying pieces of property with these false names with the people assuming identities and using them as places for exchanges."

"Jesus how much money is he getting?!" Mysterion blinked.

"A lot if what people you've ran into have been credible in their stories. Hate to admit it, but crime is profitable. And with a network this big, spanning so many people? Fuck the amounts are probably massive. And who knows how long he's had this going. Hell, he could've bought this building with syndicate profits," he gestured around. "And if that's true. That's a decade of him running this shit. And he just decided to integrate it closer to home when he realized that he could trap me in it."

The vigilante let out a long breath through his nose. "Fuck. Definitely sounds like a Fatass move."

"Exactly," he agreed. "And I'm willing to bet he's got properties bought in towns all over the place, he just keeps the ones in South Park close on hand so he can't be linked further than here."

He nodded, "So if one falls, the others stay up." Kyle nodded back and Mysterion sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "So what do we do next?"

"Well… we can't go raiding all these places," Kyle winced. "But what I'll do is I'll see what all the addresses lead to, if they're particular buildings or whatever. I'm willing to bet the 'mother's shelter' is on this list, too," he quoted with an eyeroll. "I didn't really take a good look at the pictures since we were so busy, might be Meredith on that file if my hunch is correct."

"All right. You do that and we'll pinpoint some shit we can check out while I handle my own little mission."

He looked up at him confusedly, "Mission? What mission?"

Mysterion kissed his forehead gently, letting a long breath rake through disarrayed red curls. "I'm gonna have a talk with our good buddy Larson."