oooooooooo

*author's note: Ok, so this one might be a little different from my other kyman fics. I was inspired by victimized-martyr's amazing meta posts on tumblr! It made me consider kyman's dynamic in a way I never thought of before and further catapulted me into loving the ship. I haven't personally seen many fics that address Cartman's history of sexual abuse, so I tried to do that here as well as speculate on how he might work through it with Kyle.

TL;DR basically this is 'what if Cartman had PTSD' the fic so TW for discussions of past sexual assault and a scene depicting depersonalization/dissociation. Also expect brief canon-typical antisemitism.

oooooooooo

Kyle doesn't know how the fuck he ended up in this situation.

Well, okay, he knows how it happened. He's not stupid. But it's like his brain refuses to process the reality of it because it's just so completely, unbelievably ridiculous.

He's dating Eric fucking Cartman.

It's been making him question all the life choices that led him to this point, pretty much nonstop. What kind of weird alternate universe has he wound up in? How has he let himself fall so far off the deep end?

All it took was Cartman almost dying to crack the wall of denial Kyle had been unintentionally building for over a decade. Like how sad is that? Really, it's not like Cartman hasn't almost died before. Hell, Cartman's even injured himself to the point of hospitalization on several occasions, and back then Kyle never felt the need to fucking spill his guts to the guy about how much he cared about him.

Or, if he did, he didn't realize it. Cartman's always just… been there. He's always been one of the few constants in Kyle's insane fucking life. As sure as death and taxes, Eric Cartman would always be there to annoy the shit out of him, or call him a dirty Jew, or publicly humiliate him, or drag him into a fistfight, or all of the above.

The idea that Cartman might someday not be there, that something terrible and irreparable might happen to him, simply wasn't a possibility Kyle ever considered. Sure, he did sometimes fantasize about Cartman being shipped away to some far-off state or country or planet so he couldn't torture Kyle anymore. But, even in those fantasies, it's not like he actually wanted Cartman dead. For whatever reason, he could never bring himself to think about that, like there was some kind of road block in his brain if he tried.

It all went to shit when Cartman decided to pull some stupid scheme for petty cash and ended up getting shot in the fucking chest.

Kyle found himself faced with the blunt reality of Cartman bleeding out on the fucking sidewalk, unable to do anything to make it stop no matter what he tried, watching Cartman's terrified face get paler and paler, his panicked grip on Kyle's jacket growing weaker and weaker, the light in his eyes fading away. There was nothing he could do, and Kyle came to the horrible realization that Cartman was really going to die this time.

Cartman was going to die, and something inside Kyle shattered into a million pieces.

Suddenly he was fucking sobbing, with Cartman's blood drenched all over his hands, shaking Cartman's cold, limp body and screaming at him to fucking WAKE UP, GODDAMMIT!

It was like the ground collapsed from underneath him, like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He'd never felt anything so powerfully debilitating in his life.

All Kyle knew was that Cartman wasn't supposed to die like this. He was supposed to die in a goddamn blaze of glory, cackling as he dove head-first into a volcano or something equally psychotic, a death that matched the sheer insanity of his life.

But no. Instead, he got this.

It wasn't right.

Kyle's grief and rage practically exploded out of him. He found himself screaming about how fucking lame Cartman was for dying over something so unbelievably stupid, how much he needed Cartman to live, how he couldn't imagine being in a world where he didn't exist, and how dare he not have the goddamn decency to even say goodbye after everything they've been through.

Of course, that's when the most deus-ex-machina bullshit came along in the form of the Devil himself returning a favor, and Cartman ended up living after all.

Fucking figures.

In the days of Cartman's recovery, Kyle had the biggest crisis of his goddamn life. When he wasn't visiting Cartman in the hospital and unintentionally fretting over him like an overbearing mother, he was in his own bedroom biting his nails off and pacing like a maniac, with the same thought repeating over and over in his head and still not making any sense no matter how he tried.

He needed Cartman.

He needed that motherfucker in his life like he needed goddamn oxygen. What the fuck.

Needless to say, the realization made Kyle feel like a complete fucking idiot.

And of course, when Cartman finally woke up, he remembered the whole damn incident despite having no oxygen in his brain for several minutes. As soon as he saw Kyle, Cartman immediately started mocking him for being so emotional, quoting Kyle's own words back at him and laughing, albeit with much less force than usual due to his voice being scratchy and hoarse from the breathing tube.

Both relieved and furious, Kyle impulsively decided to shut him up by grabbing his face and kissing him on the goddamn mouth. What was even more unbelievable was how Cartman fucking melted on the spot and actually kissed him back, clutching Kyle's body closer and touching his face so tenderly that it made Kyle's heart wrench with painful affection.

Suddenly, everything made a terrifying amount of sense. He's never gonna forget the dopey, drunken look on Cartman's face when he pulled away.

Ever since then, they've been seeing each other almost every day with a few of those days including surprisingly pleasant make-out sessions. Kyle's been too terrified to talk about this new development with anyone, though, for… obvious reasons. Even Stan doesn't know.

So… yeah. It's official. Kyle's actually gone insane. That's the only explanation for it. Being frenemies with a psychotic narcissist for so long and living in the most batshit insane town in America finally did him in. Why else can he forgive Cartman for (most of) the bullshit he's pulled to torture him for literally their entire lives? Why else does he feel like this? Why else does he want their relationship to work so badly?

Anyway that's where Kyle's brain is at, still in shock despite it currently being over a month since the incident.

Right now, he's in the process of another make-out on Cartman's own bed, and Kyle feels like he's on cloud nine. Cartman is sprawled on his back with Kyle on top of him, doing his best to keep his weight off Cartman's chest so he doesn't push on the still-healing bullet wounds accidentally. It's hilarious how often Cartman runs his fingers through Kyle's hair as they kiss, obviously enjoying it despite his ginger-ness. Kyle should be teasing him for this given the lifetime of shit Cartman has spewed at him for his hair, but right now his brain is basically mush and he can't focus through the haze of euphoria.

They've been going at it for what feels like hours now, and somehow Kyle still hasn't gotten bored. Apparently Cartman hasn't either or else he'd definitely have pushed Kyle off of him by now.

The weirdest thing about it is that it's… fun. Kyle keeps trying out different things to see how they feel and how Cartman will react, like slowing or speeding up the pace, kissing his neck, turning their faces so their lips can fit together a little differently. Cartman keeps making these quiet, desperate noises into Kyle's mouth and that spurs him on even more.

He finally gets why people like doing this so much.

But then there's another issue: namely, Kyle's boner. He doesn't know when it started but there's no possible way he can deny it's there, and he doesn't have a fucking clue what to do.

Like, kissing is one thing. There's still at least some level of plausible deniability that his feelings towards Cartman aren't that bad, and there's still an opportunity for him to back out and hope things might go back to normal if he tries hard enough to ignore what happened in the past month.

However, doing anything below the belt is creeping into much more serious territory. It means confirming that yes, despite how horribly this asshole has treated him over the course of their lives, he still… likes him. He LIKE likes him.

Fucking yikes. It would be impossible to come back from that.

The left side of his brain is screaming at him to stop what he's doing and backpedal like a motherfucker because why the hell is he letting himself get involved with Cartman?! This is all giving the fat bastard an insane amount of humiliation fodder that he could use to torture Kyle until the universe blows up.

The right side of his brain, on the other hand, is pulling him deeper into the hole he's made for himself, begging him to say 'fuck it' and let himself drown in the flood of hormone-fueled desires that have come rocketing out of left field.

Kyle doesn't know which side will win, and, to his horror, his body kind of makes the call for him.

At one point Kyle tugs on Cartman's hair harder than he meant to and makes Cartman's head tilt back slightly with the force of it. Cartman breaks the kiss and gasps, then exhales a deep, shivering moan.

The sound makes Kyle's insides twist and burn, a wave arousal blooming hot in his abdomen and licking up his spine. It does no favors for his boner, instead making his hips twitch forward to unintentionally grind against Cartman's thigh.

Fuck, even that small amount of friction feels stupidly good. So he does it again on instinct and ducks his head into the crook of Cartman's shoulder, moaning softly.

Kyle doesn't know what he expected Cartman's reaction would be in this kind of scenario, but it sure as hell wasn't Cartman completely freezing up on him.

As soon as he notices Kyle lifts himself up onto his hands and knees to put some space between their bodies.

"Shit, sorry," Kyle says, silently panicking, mentally berating himself for not being in control of his own damn body.

Cartman doesn't respond. Kyle sits up more to look at his face and his heart sinks with dread.

Cartman's eyes are wide and unblinking, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched, and he's hardly breathing.

What the fuck?

"Cartman?" Kyle asks, and Cartman still doesn't respond, so he tries again. "Are you okay?"

Kyle waits for a bit but… nope. Nothing. Cartman keeps staring at the ceiling. He's so still it's like he's literally frozen.

Kyle panics even more and grabs Cartman by the shoulders to shake him, injuries be damned.

"Cartman! Hey, snap out of it!" he shouts.

That finally gets his attention and Cartman slowly makes eye contact, blinking over and over.

"Kyle?"

"Dude, are you okay?" Kyle asks. "Look, I'm sorry I… did that. It was an accident."

Cartman blinks and frowns. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why the hell did you stop? Was my leg not good enough for you to dry hump?"

Kyle balks.

"Wh—? What are you talking about? You completely froze up."

Cartman frowns.

"No I didn't."

Kyle's brow furrows with annoyance. Really, Kyle's embarrassed enough as it is. What kind of bullshit is Cartman trying to pull here?

"Uh, yeah, you did," Kyle says.

"Uh, no I didn't," Cartman says, mocking Kyle's irritated tone. "Can we get back to making out now?"

Kyle squints with confusion. "What?"

Cartman's gaslit him before, but never like this. He seems genuinely confused. There's none of that usual coy tone or barely-suppressed smirking going on when Cartman knows that Kyle knows he's lying.

"Are you on crack, Kyle? C'mon, I want more of that nasty mouth of yours," Cartman says, tugging hard at Kyle's shirt.

Kyle tentatively allows himself to be pulled down again because despite that weird-ass conversation, he is (much to his shame) still kind of horny and does want to keep going. Cartman holds Kyle's face and kisses him deeply, jumping right back into it with the same intensity. Kyle can't help but sink into it again too, letting his thoughts turn to white noise. Cartman hums into his mouth when Kyle touches their tongues together, clutching the back of Kyle's shirt.

Needless to say Kyle's hard-on returns embarrassingly quickly. In the back of his mind he's still confused as shit about what just happened. But Cartman said in so little words that he was fine with Kyle grinding on him, so he figures it was a weird fluke or something. Cartman's done a lot weirder things.

Steeling himself, Kyle carefully presses his hips forward and grinds down hard on Cartman's thigh.

"Guh," Kyle groans eloquently.

Oh God. Well that was an embarrassing noise. Kyle must be really fucking pent up or something because once again, his insides burn even at that small bit of contact.

Except Cartman almost immediately freezes up like before. His body goes rigid and his lips stop moving against Kyle's.

When Kyle pulls away, Cartman's got that same weird, wide-eyed expression. It would be funny if it didn't freak Kyle out as much as it does.

"Dude, you just did it again!" he shouts.

Cartman doesn't respond and Kyle scoffs, sitting up.

"Oh my God," he mutters under his breath. He grabs Cartman's shoulders and shakes him violently.

"Cartman! Hello?!"

Cartman winces and snaps out of it, reaching up to yank Kyle's wrists away from him.

"OW, fuck Kyle, stop! What is your problem?!" Cartman yells. Kyle pulls out of Cartman's grip and Cartman grimaces, bringing a hand across his torso to clutch his left ribs, the site of the worst bullet wound. He hisses through his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, taking halted breaths.

Great, Kyle actually hurt him this time. He immediately feels bad for doing that but powers through his guilt with more anger.

"MY problem?! You're the one who keeps turning into a fucking statue and lying about it!"

Cartman sits up with a wince and glares at him.

"I'm not lying, Kyle! Jesus Christ, you actually did smoke crack, didn't you?"

"I didn't smoke any goddamn crack!" Kyle yells.

Then he notices something and his anger dissipates in an instant.

"Oh my God, Cartman," he says. "You're— you're shaking."

"What? No I'm not."

"Goddammit, just look," Kyle says. He grabs Cartman's forearm and lifts it up.

Cartman rolls his eyes and reluctantly obliges, but then after a few seconds his eyes widen.

"What the fuck…?" Cartman murmurs, staring at his hand which, sure enough, is trembling right in front of his face. He quickly clasps it flush against his sternum and swallows, staring at the far wall.

Cartman is silent for a moment before he steels his jaw and meets Kyle's eyes again.

"So what, Kyle? You wanna fuck me, go ahead. Nothing's stopping you."

There's a beat of silence.

Kyle stares at him in shock and backs away from him on the bed, heart in his throat, shaking his head.

"What the hell, Cartman? I'm not gonna do that."

Cartman scoffs. "Oh what, so now I'm not pretty enough for you?"

Kyle just keeps staring at Cartman with a disturbed expression. What the hell is he supposed to say to that?

Cartman, obviously put out with Kyle's long silence, groans and rolls his eyes.

"Look Kyle," he says through gritted teeth. "I didn't wanna say this but apparently I have to spell it out for your stupid Jew ass. I fucking owe you one for helping save my life or whatever. You obviously wanna fuck me so that's as good a way to settle that debt as anything else. I don't see what the problem is."

Kyle's jaw falls open.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck is he saying?!

Slowly, the cogs in his brain piece everything together. He feels stupid for not realizing it earlier.

Cartman has possibly the most fucked up view of sex of anyone on the whole planet.

He grew up with a whore for a mother, and was made fun of that fact relentlessly. He's always talked about sex as inherently degrading and sadistic, done solely for the purpose of taking advantage of someone. He thinks a person's parents consensually fucking is a superhero-backstory-worthy traumatic event.

Worst of all, Kyle knows for a fact that Cartman has been sexually assaulted. Multiple times. Hell, one of those times Kyle saw it happen and had to put a stop to it himself.

Did Kyle, like… trigger him or something earlier? Is that why he froze up? Fuck, and he did it twice.

His heart wrenches painfully and nausea stews in his guts. He feels gross.

"No," Kyle says again, louder this time. "I am not doing that."

"Why the hell not?" Cartman asks, then after a moment he squints. "Oh yeah, you probably want me to be indebted to you forever, don't you? Gonna hold this over me for the rest of my life, is that it?"

"What the fuck? No!"

"Hah! I'm right, aren't I?" Cartman snaps, his voice getting heated. "I should have known, you fucking Jews and your debts. Gonna start charging interest, you goddamn shark? Gonna keep me around like your personal whore so you can fuck me when I least expect it—"

"CARTMAN!" Kyle screams, bolting from the bed to his feet. "For the love of God, shut your fat FUCKING mouth! What the HELL is wrong with you?!"

Kyle's voice cracks horribly with the scream but he doesn't care, because for some reason Cartman does actually shut up.

Kyle can't take this anymore, and not just because of the antisemetic vitriol, which unfortunately he's been used to for years now. Disgust, anger, guilt, pity, and unexpected sadness all boil painfully in his chest.

Kyle fumes as he anticipates Cartman's reaction, but Cartman just looks at him with a furrowed brow and his head tilted like a confused puppy.

As they stare at each other, Kyle realizes with more and more clarity the degree to which Cartman is seriously fucked up in the head. God, he can't look at him anymore. Kyle turns around and presses the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.

"Goddammit," Kyle swears under his breath.

"Jesus, Kyle, chill out. I was just kidding," Cartman says behind him.

"It didn't sound like you were kidding," Kyle says quietly, still facing the wall.

How the hell is Cartman being so nonchalant about this? Cartman should be the one who's upset, not Kyle. Cartman is a delusional weirdo, but does he really think Kyle would do something that disturbing?

The fact of the matter is Cartman went through so much fucked-up shit that he dissociated over something as mild as feeling someone's hard-on through several layers of clothing. Not to mention he was just going to like… let Kyle use him despite that?

Fuck. Kyle can't think about it for too long or else his throat's gonna close up.

Cartman may be a horrible person, but nobody deserves that.

Kyle takes a moment to control his breathing. Eventually, he clenches his fists and turns back around to sit on the bed next to Cartman but leaves a foot between them to give some space. He looks Cartman in the eye and says his next words very carefully, wanting to leave no room for misinterpretation.

"Listen to me, Cartman," he says. "You don't owe me a goddamn thing. I didn't start going out with you to settle any kind of fucking debt, do you understand me? This isn't a transaction. We are not having sex unless you want it too, and we are especially not going to have sex while you just lie there like a statue and fucking dissociate. I won't do that to you."

They're both silent for a long moment.

Cartman considers Kyle's words, searching his eyes for something, and Kyle stares right back.

"O… kay?" Cartman finally says. But he still looks confused.

"I'm serious, Cartman. You have to talk to me. If I'm doing something you don't wanna do, you have to fucking tell me or else I'll kick your ass."

Cartman squints and blinks. His eyes dart back and forth along the ceiling in thought and Kyle can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"But you— but… whuh?" Cartman sputters, meeting Kyle's eyes again. "But… you wanted to! You had a fucking boner, Kyle!"

Kyle feels his face heat up but he ignores it. This is too important for him to get embarrassed right now.

"Yeah I did, but that doesn't matter! You were clearly freaked out so we're not going to have sex."

Cartman looks even more befuddled.

"B-but— Gh— it doesn't—? What?"

Jesus, it's like Cartman's having a stroke.

"I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't wanna do, Cartman!"

"Wh— huh? But isn't that like… how it works?"

"No! That's not how it fucking works!"

"Wuh… so then, like…?" Cartman continues to sputter and cut himself off repeatedly as he processes this information and tries to come up with a response.

"Oh my God," Kyle mutters under his breath. He's gonna have to explain this like Cartman's a five-year-old. "Alright, look. I'm pretty sure kissing is okay with you, right? Like you were kissing me back earlier for a while."

"Uh… Yeah," Cartman says tentatively.

"And when you were touching my hair? You liked that."

Cartman blushes and sputters, averting his eyes, but then he nods. Despite the situation, Kyle can't help smirking at how fucking cute that reaction was.

"Okay," Kyle continues. "I liked it too, which is why I didn't say anything or stop you from doing it."

"...Okay," Cartman says.

"But then when I grinded on you, you froze up. You stopped kissing me back and you looked like you were freaking the fuck out. It's obvious you didn't like it, so I stopped. That's what you're supposed to do. We kept going with things we both liked, and stopped when I did something you didn't like. Does that make sense now?"

Kyle waits patiently as Cartman processes this information. After a long moment, he speaks.

"Okay fine, but… what's in it for you? Like why the hell would you do that?"

"Ugh, for God's sake— because I fucking care about you, dumbass!"

Cartman blinks.

"Oh."

Jesus, this is impossible. Cartman still seems confused but Kyle doesn't know how else to explain it to him. He has to fix this somehow. Maybe he needs to try a different approach.

He's got an idea for it, but it's gonna be awkward as hell. Kyle sighs and steels himself for what he's about to ask.

"Alright Cartman, how about this. What do you think about when you masturbate?"

Cartman's eyebrows shoot up, and then he bursts out laughing. Kyle rolls his eyes, knowing he should have expected this. Cartman goes on laughing and cackling like a maniac for what has to be at least thirty full seconds.

Finally, he wipes his eyes and says, "Ooh Kyle, you dirty girl!" He snorts. "You can't be fucking serious. You, Detective Sandy Vagina, are asking me about my fantasies?"

Kyle stares at him and crosses his arms, unamused. "Yeah. So what are they?"

Cartman laughs again, but he putters out when he sees Kyle's unchanging expression.

"Oh shit, you are serious, Jesus," he says. He purses his lips and taps a finger on his chin. "Hm, let's see. Well there's you sucking my balls, of course. That one's a classic."

"I'm not doing that," Kyle immediately snaps. "What else?"

"Plenty of stuff involving Justin Timberlake," he says contemplatively.

"No, I mean stuff you could do with me. Something realistic. If it's something you think about when you jerk off, it might be a good place for us to start without you freaking out."

Kyle hates that he has to specify this. He resists the urge to cringe at his own words because he still has to be the fucking mature one here.

"With you?" Cartman says, caught off guard.

"Yes."

"Wh— puh— I don't have to tell you that," Cartman scoffs.

"Well, how else am I supposed to know what you like? I need you to work with me here, Cartman."

Cartman crosses his arms and looks away petulantly.

"No fuckin' way. I'm not telling you, Kyle."

Kyle rubs his eyes with one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose with a long sigh.

"Goddammit, Cartman."

Shit. Okay, so that idea was a complete bust. He tries to think of something else to get through to Cartman, but all of a sudden he feels tired and emotionally drained. He can't deal with this right now.

"Okay, fine," Kyle concedes. "You know what? Clearly this isn't gonna happen today. I'm gonna go home, but I need you to fucking think about what I said, alright?"

Kyle gets up and searches the floor for the jacket he threw down there a while ago. When he finds it he hooks it over his arm and walks toward the door.

Cartman laughs and scoffs.

"Hold on, you're just gonna leave?"

Kyle stops and turns to face him. "Yeah. I'll text you later."

"C'mon, Kyle, don't leave! Can't we just keep making out?" Cartman asks.

"No, Cartman. That's not a good idea."

"Please, just a little longer?" Cartman holds his hands clasped to his chest pleadingly.

Kyle frowns as he's caught in the thrall of Cartman's infamous puppy-dog face. Goddammit. He knows he's in way too deep if that look's gonna affect him so easily, but he doesn't let it.

Kyle sighs.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he says, reaching for the door.

Cartman quickly gives up on the puppy eyes and lets out an impatient groan. He stands up and rushes over to grab Kyle's arm before he can leave.

"No! Dammit— Kyle, I…" he trails off. He runs a hand down his face, swearing under his breath.

Kyle raises his eyebrows, prompting him to continue. Cartman lets out a frustrated huff.

"Look, I fuckin'… I wanna do stuff with you, alright?" Cartman says quietly, not meeting Kyle's eyes. "Like… really, really bad. I literally can't fuckin' stop thinking about you and I'm losing my goddamn mind. It SUCKS."

His grip tightens around Kyle's sleeve and he shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

"I can't help it if my body just like… freaks out on its own!" Cartman continues. "I don't know how to make it stop! Like, how can we—? How the hell are we supposed to— Ugh, goddammit!"

Cartman drops Kyle's arm angrily and slumps back onto the bed. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and holds his face in his hands.

"Whatever. Just fucking leave then, I don't care," he mutters.

Wow. It looks like it was physically painful for him to say all that.

Kyle stares at his hunched-over body, thoughts running a mile a minute.

"...You think about me?" Kyle asks, because those words are ringing in his head the loudest.

"Yes, Kyle!" he shouts, glaring at him. "All the fucking time! It's pathetic!" He puts his head back in his hands, groaning.

Kyle can see how genuinely distressed Cartman is, and it makes his chest pang with worry.

After a long silence, Kyle walks back to the bed and sits next to him, closer this time so their legs are flush together.

"I think about you too, Cartman," he says quietly.

Cartman looks at him with wide eyes.

"You do?"

Kyle gives him a small smile. "Yeah. All the fucking time."

Cartman's face softens and his cheeks flush pink.

Kyle's heart constricts at the sight. Dammit, how the hell is he so goddamn cute when he blushes?

Kyle tentatively reaches over and takes one of Cartman's hands in both of his. He looks down at them and considers how different their hands are. Kyle's skin is slightly paler and his fingers are significantly longer, but Cartman's palm is wider than his. Kyle plays with his chubby fingers a little, feeling over each joint of one for a while before moving to the next.

He remembers how cold these same fingers felt as he held them a month ago, covered in blood.

The memory makes his chest ache, but it reminds him why they're here together now.

Suddenly, Cartman takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"I wanna kiss you again," Cartman blurts.

Kyle looks up and sure enough, Cartman's looking at him with a desperate expression, his cheeks flushed crimson. A surge of affection blooms in Kyle's stomach, and his smile widens. He squeezes Cartman's hand.

"Okay," he says.

Cartman's eyes light up and his gaze falls to Kyle's lips. Kyle watches his lids flutter shut as he leans in and kisses him.

Damn, Kyle doesn't think he's ever gonna get over how Cartman melts every time they do this. Their lips move together at a slow pace, and Cartman moans softly. The sound makes Kyle's belly surge with heat and he reaches up to hold Cartman's face, fingers curling under his jaw.

He doesn't want to get carried away though. He's still unsure about this whole situation, so he forces himself to break the kiss, still holding his face. Cartman's eyes are closed when he pulls away.

"One more?" Cartman asks, breathless and needy.

Kyle hesitates. He really should probably leave, because today's been kind of a lot and that would be the responsible thing to do. But, his resolve over his hormones only goes so far, so he nods and kisses him again. Cartman slides his hands to the back of Kyle's neck and eagerly buries his fingers in his hair at the nape. The touch makes Kyle sigh through his nose.

He stops once more and tries to back away, but Cartman's grip tightens and doesn't let him get far. He can feel Cartman's warm breath on his face.

"One more?" Cartman murmurs.

Fuck.

Kyle kisses him again and this time, he gives in to the temptation to touch his tongue to Cartman's bottom lip. Cartman moans and opens his mouth. Their tongues slide together, hot and slick.

"Mmn…" Cartman hums, tilting his head more so Kyle can lick deeper into his mouth. Cartman shivers and starts carding his fingers through Kyle's hair, making tingles spread down Kyle's spine.

They kiss like that for a while until Cartman breaks away and groans. He grabs fistfulls of the front of Kyle's shirt and leans forward, pressing his forehead to Kyle's shoulder.

"Oh please Kyle, can we at least do something?" he says breathlessly. "I got a chub the size of Texas and it feels like my dicks's gonna fall off."

Kyle snorts and pets Cartman's cheek with his thumb.

"Oh, do you?" he can't help teasing.

"Yeah," Cartman says, surprisingly candid. He buries his face further in Kyle's neck, breath hot against his skin. "I'm so fuckin' hard, Kyle…" he murmurs, pressing a few wet kisses there.

Kyle shivers and grips the back of Cartman's shirt.

Shit. He doesn't know what to do. They're both clearly horny as hell, but Kyle really, really doesn't want Cartman to freeze up on him again. There's gotta be something they can try, something that can get them both off that has the least likelihood of freaking Cartman out. Kyle wracks his brain as Cartman kisses him and, after a good minute, the lightbulb goes off.

"Okay," Kyle says softly, pulling Cartman away from his neck to look him in the eye. "Okay, uh, how about… I just, like, keep kissing you, and you can jerk yourself off. Wanna try that?"

Cartman's eyes widen and he whines, ducking his head into Kyle's neck again and nodding frantically.

"Fuck yeah, I wanna try that."

Kyle smiles. "Then take your pants off."

Cartman keens and breathes out shakily, and to Kyle's surprise he does what he says right away, his hands fumbling a little as he unbuttons his jeans.

"Wait, lie back first," Kyle says, taking his shoulders to guide him up onto the bed. Cartman lays his head on the pillow and finishes loosening his pants, shimmying them down until his boxers are exposed.

Kyle gulps as what they're doing sinks in, and he can't help staring at Cartman's thick thighs and the obvious bulge at his groin. Jesus, Cartman sure as hell wasn't lying.

Cartman notices him staring of course, so he blushes and huffs at Kyle.

"Take a picture asshole, it'll last longer."

Kyle smirks. "Eh, maybe later. I wanna see you get off first," Kyle says, only half-teasing. He's a little surprised at his own words the minute they leave his mouth.

Cartman's eyes widen.

"J-Jesus, Kyle, fuck," he breathes.

Kyle settles himself belly-down next to Cartman with one arm draped over his chest, making sure to angle his lower body away from Cartman while still being able to reach his face.

"Okay, go ahead and do what you usually do. You'll have more control that way. And I'll just kiss you. Nothing below the belt, I promise," Kyle says.

Cartman swallows and lets out a shaky sigh.

"Shit, okay," Cartman murmurs. He hesitates and seems to steel himself before reaching over to his bedside table drawer and pulling out a bottle.

Kyle is surprised when he sees that it doesn't look like lotion, which is what he normally uses for himself and assumed every other teenage boy did too. He doesn't recognize the label but he looks closer and his eyebrows shoot up when he reads the words "silicone-based personal lubricant".

"Wow, is that like… real lube?" Kyle asks.

"Uh… yeah," Cartman says, looking away from Kyle as he clicks open the cap.

"Where'd you get it? Like online?"

"No. Stole it from my mom."

Kyle shoots him a look. "Dude, what?!"

"Hey, chill out, I made sure I took one that was unopened. I don't wanna get gono-herpa-syphilis any more than you do."

Okay, that actually calms Kyle down a bit.

"But don't you use regular lotion? Isn't that easier to get?"

Cartman averts his eyes again, his face turning crimson. "I like this stuff better," he mumbles. Then he snaps, "I'm allowed to be a fancy bitch and use the nice lube when I jerk off, Kyle."

"Alright, jeez, I was just asking," he says.

Wow. He's never thought about shit like this before. It's like… super weird learning the details of Cartman's sexual preferences. He leans in and kisses Cartman's temple, trying to get him to relax because he can sense the increased tension in Cartman's body after that exchange.

Kyle pulls back, and Cartman gives him a strangely serious look, brow furrowed like he's thinking about something.

"What?" Kyle asks.

Cartman shakes his head and says, "N-nothing, I'm—" He squeezes his eyes shut. "Will you just keep kissing me?"

Kyle nods and squeezes his arm, attempting to be reassuring.

"Okay."

Kyle moves his head down to kiss his neck, and Cartman lets out a soft moan when Kyle sucks gently, tilting his head to expose more skin. He's a little sweaty but Kyle doesn't really mind it. He likes how warm Cartman is, and pressing his lips to his skin and tasting him feels weirdly indulgent.

Kyle keeps kissing his neck and resists the urge to look down and watch what Cartman's doing as he finally tugs down his boxers. The last thing he wants is to make Cartman self-conscious like before. He's never seen Cartman so unsure of himself and it's honestly kind of trippy, and not in the good way. Kyle just needs to keep it chill and let him do his thing.

There's a click from the lube cap. Cartman sits up a little to set the bottle down on the bedside table, and lies back again.

It's silent for a long moment, then Cartman takes a halting breath and shivers.

"O-oh God—" Cartman moans, and Kyle hears the telltale slick sound of lube being spread on skin.

Fuck.

Cartman shudders hard and sighs, arching his back.

The quiet sounds of Cartman slowly jacking himself fill the room. It's lewd as fuck but also like… weirdly exciting.

Kyle cups Cartman's cheek and tilts his head to the side toward him, kissing him fiercely, exploring his mouth with his tongue and sucking hard on his lips. Cartman's breaths get deeper, his chest heaving.

Kyle's glad this is going okay so far. The bubble of anxiety in his chest deflates a little.

"Yeah, that's it," Kyle murmurs encouragingly, watching Cartman's face, running his thumb over his cheek. "Keep going like that."

Cartman whimpers and obeys. His hand slides up and down, over and over, gradually picking up the pace. Kyle nips at Cartman's bottom lip and Cartman moans low in his throat, the rhythm of his hand stuttering.

Oh God. That desperate sound makes Kyle's dick twitch. He grinds down into the mattress to try to ease some of the tension in his body as he soothes Cartman's lip with his tongue.

Cartman moans and reaches up with his free hand to thread his fingers into Kyle's hair, holding him close. Kyle sighs at the touch, moving his hand from Cartman's face, down his neck to his chest. He rubs his palm across from one shoulder to the other with slow, firm pressure, and Cartman shivers.

Kyle breaks the kiss but stays close.

"This okay?" he asks against his lips, bringing his hand back across to the other side of his chest. Cartman still isn't freezing up which is a good sign, but he wants to make sure.

Cartman nods frantically, tightening his grip on Kyle's hair.

"Nngh— Kyle," Cartman moans.

Kyle brings their lips together again, and Kyle breathes in the quiet, desperate noises that are pouring out of Cartman's mouth every few seconds now.

As they kiss, Kyle finds himself considering the details of Cartman's body in a way he never has before. Cartman is, to some degree, actually big-boned. He has wide shoulders and stocky limbs, especially compared to Kyle who's much lankier and several inches taller. Not that Kyle's a twig, though; he's actually got a good amount of muscle, thank you very much. It's just that the width of his own chest is like two-thirds that of Cartman's, but that's including all the pudginess.

Kyle moves his hand further down Cartman's chest, careful to avoid the left side of his ribs where the still-healing bullet wounds are. He tentatively runs his palm over the swell of Cartman's tit and feels the slight raise of his nipple through his shirt. Cartman shudders and sighs against Kyle's mouth, combing his fingers through Kyle's hair with his free hand.

"Mmn, yeah… Touch me Kyle, please…"

His tone is so needy it makes Kyle groan with arousal. On instinct Kyle squeezes the soft flesh and finds it ridiculously satisfying, especially when it gets Cartman to let out more of those pretty moans.

By this point Kyle's cock is achingly hard where it's trapped against the mattress, and he's been trying to ignore it but every once in a while he can't help digging his hips in to get some friction, at least to take the edge off. But he's been doing it more and more frequently to where he's having to actively force himself to stop building a rhythm.

Kyle moves his hand to the other side of Cartman's chest and palms his other tit, massaging and squeezing with humiliating indulgence on his end.

Cartman gasps and Jesus fuck, Kyle can't take it anymore. He has to look.

Kyle props himself up on his elbow and his gaze travels down Cartman's body, over the swell of his stomach to finally get a glimpse of what he's been doing. Kyle's eyes widen as he watches Cartman's fist pump rapidly up and down on his cock, the flushed head disappearing and reappearing, his skin shiny and slick with lube.

"Fuck," Kyle whispers. That's Cartman's cock. He's watching Cartman stroke his cock. Contrary to what Kyle expected, he's not really that small. In fact, it looks surprisingly average, but the fact Kyle knows it's Cartman's makes his head reel.

Cartman sees him looking and slows his pace down, laughing breathlessly. He twists his wrist a little, putting on a show.

"Like what you see?" Cartman says coyly, though his voice is super breathy and Kyle can hear the tinge of desperation in it. Cartman slides his fingers down to the base and comes back up even slower, all the way up until Kyle sees a bead of pre leak from the tip.

Rather than giving him a verbal response, Kyle tears his eyes away and crashes his lips against Cartman's, growling low in his throat, squeezing harder at his tit and making Cartman gasp and shudder. Kyle shamelessly grinds into the mattress again because fucking hell he's so fucking turned on he feels like a dog in heat.

"Oh fuck, Kyle," Cartman gasps, breaking from their kiss.

Kyle attacks Cartman's neck again and this time Cartman throws his head back and moans, and Kyle can taste the vibration of it on his tongue.

"O-oh my God. Kyle. I feel s-so fucking good right now," Cartman blurts, his body trembling. "This is the best fucking idea you've ever had, holy fucking shit."

Kyle sucks hard at his neck and leaves a few shallow nips, making Cartman squirm and yelp. Kyle isn't surprised because this loser has like zero pain tolerance but the noise makes his dick throb.

"Nngh, fuck I wanna come so bad," Cartman moans, picking up his pace again, the quiet squelch of the lube getting louder.

Yes, good, Kyle thinks. This is good. This is very good. Kyle's so fucking happy this is working. Cartman hasn't so much as flinched once since they started. A rush of excitement floods Kyle's body at the thought. He fondles Cartman's chest with one hand and fists his hand into Cartman's hair with the other, giving it a firm tug to expose more of the skin on his neck.

"Ah! Yes, Kyle. Fuck yeah. Mmh, I love it when you touch me like that…" Cartman sighs, arching his chest up into Kyle's palm.

Cartman's lips brush over Kyle's ear, voice low and gravelly as he murmurs, "One of these days I'm gonna have you bend me over a table and fuck my brains out, and you're gonna have your hands on my tits the whole fucking time."

Holy shit.

Kyle gasps and chokes, his mind providing an extremely vivid image of what that would look like, what it would feel like.

"I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you Kyle?" Cartman breathes huskily, fist still flying over his dick, his other hand combing through Kyle's hair and gripping it possessively. "You'd love to just pin me down like a little bitch, make me take your cock so fuckin' deep I can taste it."

Kyle moans and clutches at Cartman's body hard enough to bruise, because oh God yes he wants to do that so fucking bad, and his orgasm slams into him out of nowhere.

He comes with a hoarse groan, grinding into the mattress over and over as he bites and sucks at Cartman's neck. Sharp, overwhelming pleasure explodes behind his eyes and in his guts and for an absurd second Kyle thinks he's actually dying, it's so fucking intense. His dick throbs so hard it's almost painful, shooting off wave after wave of cum into his boxers.

Distantly, he hears Cartman gasp and moan his name over and over, his body shuddering violently, and Kyle somehow finds the presence of mind to give him one more heavy kiss, their tongues sliding together fervently, before breaking away again with a gasp, ducking his forehead onto Cartman's shoulder.

The room is silent except for their heavy breathing.

It takes an insane amount of time for the euphoria to dissipate enough that Kyle can do anything besides shiver and moan and cling to Cartman's body.

He's still catching his breath when he finally releases his grip and props himself up with his elbow to look at Cartman's face.

To his shock, Cartman is staring at Kyle and he has tears in his eyes.

"Oh my— Cartman, what—?" Kyle stutters. "Are you—?"

He's interrupted by Cartman throwing his arms around him and hugging him tightly to his chest.

Cartman sinks his face into the crook of his neck and Kyle hears him sniffle loudly.

"Fuckin' — thank you Kyle," Cartman says, his voice wobbly, squeezing him harder. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

Kyle cautiously squeezes him back, thoughts reeling. What the hell is happening?

"Are you—?" Kyle clears his throat. Fuck, his voice sounds so weird and scratchy. "Are you okay? Was that… okay?"

"Okay?!" Cartman shouts in his ear, making Kyle wince. "It was more than fucking 'okay' Kyle!" He laughs breathlessly, a little hysterical. "I don't think I've ever come so hard in my fucking life."

"O-oh," Kyle says, feeling his face heat up. "That's… good."

What the fuck else is he supposed to say to that?

"You bet your ass it is!" Cartman laughs. "And I didn't freak out once!"

Kyle huffs a laugh through his nose, smiling.

"Yeah. I'm glad."

"You're a goddamn genius, Kyle," Cartman says, hugging him tight again.

Wow. Fuck, he is not used to Cartman dishing out compliments to him so freely. It makes his stomach feel weird and fluttery. He also doesn't think it's one he deserves because really, he didn't do that much.

They stay in the embrace for a while, their breaths still returning to a normal pace. Cartman shows no signs of letting go, but Kyle's starting to feel the cum in his pants cool and stick uncomfortably to his thighs and he needs a bathroom ASAP.

He also realizes Cartman's been hugging him with cum and lube all over his right hand and his shirt is probably filthy.

"Okay dude, I gotta get up," Kyle says.

Cartman holds him for a few more seconds before he sighs and reluctantly releases him.

He gets up and steals a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt from Cartman's dresser, then he has to waddle to the bathroom with his legs wide apart because holy shit, it feels like there's a fucking crime scene in his pants. Cartman cackles at him as he leaves and Kyle flips him off without turning around.

As Kyle washes himself off, it's hard for him to focus properly because every few seconds his eyes glaze over and he's bombarded with vivid memories of what just happened. He realizes there are several things he needs to address with Cartman and himself at some point.

Like that fucking dirty talk. Goddamn. Was that for real? He still can't believe Cartman would say something that degrading about himself. But, Kyle also can't believe that he himself was… actually into it? Like holy shit, he came like a goddamn firehose at the idea of holding Cartman down and fucking him over a table.

Shit. That's something he didn't know about himself before and it's really weirding him out.

He also realizes that there's no fucking way they could actually do that any time soon.

Cartman likes being in control. He always has and it's what he's used to, which makes sense because the bastard's always been a fucking narcissist. But, from what Kyle can glean from today… he also really likes the idea of giving up that control. BUT he is also terrified to do that and has some weird trauma response to it.

Kyle has a lifetime of practice psychoanalyzing Cartman so he thinks his hunch must be pretty accurate, even if the current situation is completely outside the norm. Still, he doesn't know what exactly to do with these revelations.

Kyle sighs heavily, shaking his head to himself as he changes into the clean t-shirt and boxers. This is a whole fucking can of worms he didn't even know existed until today. He's gonna have to table this and think about it more later.

The clothes are obviously way too big for him because they're Cartman's, but Kyle makes do. He gathers the waistband of the boxers to one side and ties a knot at his hip to make sure they don't fall off. The shirt's neck is wide and shows more skin of his shoulders than he's used to, but it doesn't slide off to one side or anything so at least it doesn't look too stupid.

He also makes a fruitless attempt to smooth down his hair in the mirror because Jesus, Cartman really went ham on him, didn't he? He's at full-on Jew-fro status right now. Patting it down with water helps a little but he quickly gives up and resigns himself to potential insults about his Carrot Top situation.

Kyle goes back to Cartman's bedroom and dumps his dirty clothes in the hamper with a grimace. Cartman has cleaned himself off too apparently, because he's also got a different shirt on. He's staring at the ceiling with his hands folded over his belly and a contemplative expression on his face.

"Hey," Kyle says.

Cartman turns his head to look at him.

"Hey," he says back, then makes a beckoning gesture. "Get your sweet ass over here."

Kyle snorts and sits back on the edge of the bed. Cartman scooches to the side and pats the space next to him, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

Kyle rolls his eyes and lies down, each of them staring at the ceiling.

"So," Cartman eventually says. "That happened."

"Yup," Kyle replies, popping the 'p'.

He can feel Cartman's eyes on him. Kyle turns his head and once again is shocked to see Cartman's eyes filling with tears. Worry bubbles up in Kyle's chest.

"Dude," Kyle says, reaching over to touch his face. "You sure you're okay?"

"Huh?" Cartman asks. Then he blinks and a tear falls down his cheek. Cartman blinks rapidly and looks concerned all of a sudden as he frantically wipes the tears away with his sleeve. "Fuck," he swears under his breath, rolling to his side facing away from Kyle. He lets out a shuddering sigh.

Kyle frowns.

"Cartman, I told you to talk to me or I'll kick your ass. What's going on?"

Cartman shakes his head and after a long moment, he sniffles and laughs.

"I'm just so fucking happy I'm alive," Cartman says, his voice watery.

There's a lot that Kyle wants to talk about, but maybe it's not the right time just yet. But they do have time, and Kyle figures that's all that matters right now.

In that moment, watching Cartman shudder with stifled cries next to him, Kyle makes a promise to himself to take things real fucking slow with this.

Kyle rolls to his side and moves closer, sliding his arm around Cartman's torso to pull him against his chest and hold him close. He can feel Cartman's shaky breaths.

"Yeah," Kyle replies, ducking his head between Cartman's shoulder blades, taking in Cartman's scent and thanking God for this moment. "Me too."