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Chapter 2 summary: In which Kyle and Cartman continue to navigate the uncharted water that is their new relationship. Kyle emulates Troy Bolton. Cartman has a crisis. Some long-buried truths are revealed.
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Kyle is clenching his jaw so hard it feels like he's gonna pop a fucking blood vessel.
The reason for said clenching is Cartman being his usual obnoxious self, playing "Get'Cha Head In The Game" on full blast with his small but ridiculously loud portable speakers that he decided to whip out of his backpack.
Every single student that passes them in the hallway gets an understandably put-off expression on their face, some of them shooting a death-glare or a 'what-the-fuck? please-control-your-weird-friend' look that Stan and Kenny seem oblivious to.
"C'mon, Kyle, where's your school spirit?!" Cartman screams, wiggling his body side-to-side and mimicking holding a basketball while doing weird juke-moves.
Kyle doesn't humor him with a verbal response, instead rolling his eyes with as much dramatics as he's capable of and covering his face with one hand.
"Dude, can't you at least be a little excited?" Cartman asks. "This is the rivalry match of the century!"
Kyle sighs.
"Cartman, I'm like ninety-nine percent sure the only reason you care about this is because they're giving out free churros at the game," Kyle deadpans.
"Yeah, and 'rivalry match of the century' is pushing it, dude," Stan points out. "It's not that deep."
Cartman scoffs and pointedly ignores Kyle's comment.
"Alright, maybe it's not 'of the century' but at least of our feeble young lives," Cartman amends. "But you're still not showing enough goddamn school spirit, Kyle! Aren't you supposed to care about your stupid team?"
"Of course I care about my team!" Kyle yells, glaring. "I just don't need you blasting annoying-as-shit basketball songs for the whole school to hear!" He rubs his eyes tiredly. "God, you're so fucking embarrassing…"
There's a palpable pause. Cartman's face falls for a split second, but he recovers quickly.
"Oh, okay fine, Kyle!" he exclaims, throwing his arms up and stomping towards him. "I see you're completely undermining my efforts to increase school morale, but I get it. You're an unappreciative son of a bitch as always."
Kyle folds his arms, narrowing his eyes at Cartman as he approaches.
He expects Cartman to try to shove him against the lockers or something, but to Kyle's surprise Cartman hooks an arm around his shoulders and pulls him down to Cartman's height, squeezing him close and pressing the sides of their bodies together. Kyle freezes for a second at the sudden proximity before he relaxes and rolls his eyes.
"I'll get that school spirit into you if it kills me, Kyle," Cartman says, his voice low and falsely serious.
"Uh-huh. You do that," Kyle deadpans.
"Oh I will. You know I'm gonna break you eventually," Cartman says, smirking deviously and squeezing Kyle's shoulder, unexpectedly affectionate. He starts singing along to the song again, loud and obnoxious right in Kyle's ear.
"God, will you shut up?" Kyle snaps. "Stop trying to start a goddamn pep rally."
"Nuh-uh," Cartman replies, his grin widening. "C'mon, where's that smile?" He pokes Kyle hard in the ribs repeatedly, and Kyle grabs his wrist to stop him and shoots him a dirty look. He lets go after a few seconds, but then Cartman immediately goes right back to poking him so he has to grab his wrist again, holding it in a firmer grip this time. As a counter-move Cartman resorts to jostling Kyle's body back and forth along with the beat using the leverage he's got around his shoulders, making Kyle's head sway side to side with the movement.
"Ugh," Kyle groans, pointedly avoiding Cartman's incessant gaze. He can feel his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. Stan and Kenny watch the weird display with quizzical looks on their faces.
"I know it's in there somewhere, Kyle," Cartman sing-songs, pulling him hard enough now that he almost loses balance and has to lean his weight on Cartman to keep from falling over. He rolls his eyes even harder, grumbling about how much of a weirdo Cartman is.
"Since when do you care about 'school spirit,' Cartman?" Stan asks. "You fucking hate it here."
Stan's assessment is not inaccurate.
"Uh, since forever?" Cartman lies. "This school is my LIFE, Stan! You of all people would understand that."
Stan squints in confusion, and there's something in it that makes Kyle feel uneasy.
"Uh… no. I really don't," Stan replies, his gaze darting back and forth between Kyle and Cartman.
Cartman finally releases his hold on Kyle and scoffs. "Pfft, whatever. Guess I'll just have to carry the burden of hyping everyone up by myself."
He turns the music up louder on his speaker. Kenny snickers and Stan pinches the bridge of his noise in annoyance.
"Sayonara, cock suckers. I'm off to spread the good word!" Cartman yells over the noise. He turns and smiles at Kyle, taking his wrist and giving him a squeeze.
"I know you're gonna kick some fuckin' ass, Kyle. Don't let me down."
Unexpectedly, Kyle's heart stutters. He searches Cartman's eyes for a second and is shocked to realize he's… actually being genuine. Cartman always gets an extra crinkle around his eyes when he's smiling for real. It's the kind of look that makes Kyle forget where they are for a second.
The corner of Kyle's mouth twitches into a small smile in return.
"Thanks, dude," he replies, half-shouting because of the music. Cartman's eyes light up and Kyle finds himself smiling a little more.
The honest moment between them is short lived, though. A few seconds later, Cartman's grin becomes sly and he suddenly whips his hand up to boop Kyle hard on the nose.
"Hah! Told you I'd break you!" Cartman laughs.
"Agh!" Kyle yells with a grimace, slapping Cartman's arm. "Fucking asshole!" But Cartman's already walking away, cackling victoriously.
"Byyye!" Cartman sing-songs over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway.
Kyle watches him go, glaring daggers into the back of his head.
Some of the students hanging out by their lockers start to bob their heads along to the music, then abruptly stop with a frown when they realize who it's coming from. Cartman finds Butters in the hallway and after a short, animated exchange Kyle can't hear, Butters actually joins him. The music fades a little as they continue down the hallway together, fist-pumping like maniacs and trying to recruit more people to their weird cause.
Well. At least someone's having fun with this.
"Huh," Kenny says after a moment.
"What?" Kyle asks.
"That was weird."
"What was?"
Kenny shrugs.
"I don't know. Since when do you let Cartman hang all over you?"
"Yeah, I was expecting you to deck him, dude," Stan adds.
Ah, fuck.
Kyle's heart drops into his stomach. Was he really doing that? He thinks back and realizes with horror that shit, he was. Their usual bickering dynamic involves Kyle pushing Cartman away immediately whenever he gets too touchy, so of course Stan and Kenny noticed a change.
He wasn't even thinking about it, but he's gotten a lot more used to Cartman touching him for… obvious reasons.
He and Cartman have a silent agreement that they're going to keep what's going on with them to themselves, at least for now. If they told Stan and Kenny, there'd have to be further explanation, and Kyle knows that neither of them are even close to ready for that conversation yet. Part of it is likely Cartman not wanting to admit that he almost died out of pride, and another part of it is Kyle not wanting to admit that he had a complete meltdown over it.
But, of course, the biggest part of it is the whole thing ended with the two of them making out on Cartman's hospital bed. So there's that.
How the fuck is he supposed to tell his best friends that he's literally been sleeping with the enemy for a good two months now? Kyle doesn't want to think about it. It's too much for his overwhelmed brain to handle right now.
So. Denial it is then.
Kyle clears his throat.
"The longer I indulge him now the more he'll leave me alone later," Kyle replies, trying to be as nonchalant as possible and waving his hand in the air dismissively. "You know how he is."
It's not a good lie, but it's the best excuse Kyle can come up with on the spot.
Kenny and Stan exchange glances.
"This isn't, like… another 'peace in the Middle East' situation is it?" Stan asks cautiously. Kyle's eyes widen with horror.
"No!" Kyle yells. "God, fuck no. It's not anything like that."
"So there is something going on," Kenny states, reading between the lines.
"Wh— NO! I mean— There isn't. Really."
Stan and Kenny shoot each other a concerned, side-eyed look, and after a long moment, Stan sighs and shrugs.
"Alright. If you say so, Kyle," Stan says. "But whatever it is, just… don't let it go too far, okay? You always do when it comes to Cartman's bullshit."
Jesus fucking Christ. Kyle decides that maybe Stan knows him a little too well. It kind of freaks him out.
Also, it's a bit too fucking late for that. It's ridiculous to admit, but Kyle knows he's gone way past the point of no return with Cartman. He can't just drop everything, not after all they've been through.
The idea of stopping the kind of relationship they have now actually makes his chest ache, a lot more than he thought it would.
He doesn't know how to respond to Stan's comment, so he doesn't. Instead he turns and grabs his calculus textbook out of his locker as quickly as he can without being obvious about it, slamming his locker shut.
"I'm going to class. See you guys," Kyle says, walking past them.
"Alright, bye Kyle," Kenny replies tentatively.
"See ya, dude," Stan says, but Kyle can tell from his tone that he's definitely gonna bring this up with Kyle again. He cringes internally and huffs.
As soon as he rounds the corner out of sight from his friends, he leans back against the cold cement wall next to a row of lockers and groans to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He smacks his textbook lightly against his forehead a few times.
"Goddammit…" he mutters.
What a fucking day. And it's not even eight o'clock. Taking a deep breath, Kyle steps away from the wall and makes his way to his first class.
"Hey, Kyle, you okay?" he hears a voice say.
The boys' locker room is a little chaotic in his periphery with the whole varsity basketball team bustling around, changing out of their street clothes into their team uniforms, chattering and jokingly pushing each other around in the small space. He blinks out of his thousand-yard stare and turns his attention to the speaker, belatedly realizing it's Tolkien.
"Uh," Kyle says stupidly. He realizes he's been staring at the wall like a weirdo, frozen halfway through putting on his jersey with his arms held awkwardly in front of him because he hasn't pulled his head through yet. He hurriedly finishes putting on the jersey and shakes his head to try to clear the overload of thoughts. He turns around to meet Tolkien's eyes, finding his brow furrowed with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Kyle says, clearing his throat.
"You sure? You seem a little out of it."
Shit, now even Tolkien knows something's up with him. He needs to get a fucking grip.
"I'm just tired," Kyle says. "Had a long day,"
The 'just tired' excuse is a classic lie because a lot of the time, it's partially true. Except that in this instance, while he is tired from a long school day, he's also having a mental crisis over Cartman for the millionth time in his life.
"You gonna be okay for the game?" Tolkien asks. Kyle knows he's asking out of friendliness but also out of trepidation, because (not to brag or anything) Kyle's one of the best players on the team and they need all hands on deck if they're going to beat North Park.
"Yeah man, I'm good. No worries. I'll see you out there, alright?" Better to end this conversation before Kyle says something stupid.
Tolkien seems placated enough with that response, because his brow unfurrows and he nods.
"Okay dude, see you out there," Tolkien says, and they fist bump quickly before Tolkien leaves to go warm up.
Kyle shuts his eyes and sighs. Jesus, he needs to relax. He can't afford to be all weird right now. He smacks himself twice on the face with both hands, attempting to wake himself up a little. After straightening out his jersey, he takes a few swigs of water from his water bottle and huffs a breath.
Okay. Time to go.
He heads out onto the court and stretches his legs a bit before grabbing a ball and practicing his lay-ups. He's actually pretty proud of himself for how much progress he's made this year; his footwork has gotten a lot better, and he's also at the point where he can do successful lay-ups consistently with his non-dominant hand which gives him a lot more versatility. It's a simple thing, but it's more difficult to do well than people realize.
Briefly glancing to the other side of the court, he watches the other team practice to get a gauge on what they're dealing with. Their jerseys are red and black, a stark contrast to South Park's green and white. They seem well-organized and energetic, and it looks like there's a good number of decent shooters based on how many practice three-pointers they're able to sink in a row.
It's going to be a tough game, but Kyle's feeling confident.
Although he's loath to agree with Cartman, the basketball game against North Park actually is a bigger deal than their usual games. It's unsurprising that the stands are nearly full with spectators for once. Kyle scans the crowd and spots Stan, Kenny, and Cartman sitting a few rows from the front near the midcourt line. Stan and Cartman are chatting (or arguing) animatedly about something with Kenny stuck in between them, looking unfazed and munching on some free churros.
A bit further up the stands he sees his parents and Ike, and when he catches their eye they all wave at him enthusiastically.
Ike cups his hands around his mouth.
"HI KYLE!" he shouts. Ike hasn't hit puberty yet so his voice is still high and youthful, but he's loud enough that Kyle can easily hear him over the murmur of the crowd. Kyle waves back, smiling.
Beyond his friends and family, pretty much the entire junior class has shown up for the game, including some people who usually couldn't give less of a shit about sports. They live in a small town so that isn't saying much, but it's a bigger crowd than he's used to seeing for sure.
Yeesh. He better not fuck this one up with so many people he knows watching him.
Kyle finds Tolkien and practices some one v. one drills with him before their coach calls them together to do some team warm-ups.
Eventually the buzzer sounds, and they have just a few minutes before the game starts.
Coach Kane brings them all in for a huddle. He's a stern-looking white guy in his late fifties with cropped gray hair, and he teaches U.S. history when he's not coaching. Even though he's a former player, weirdly enough he's an inch or two shorter than a couple of the highschoolers surrounding him. Kyle figures he must have been a point guard when he played in college because there's no way he was tall enough for any other position at that level. Regardless, the guy really knows the game and Kyle likes having him as a coach. He appreciates how no-nonsense he is.
"Alright guys, you know what we're dealing with today," Coach Kane says. "North Park's a solid team, but I know you have it in you to beat them. You've all come a long way this season, and you should be proud of yourselves for that."
The team cheers and whoops for a bit.
"But," the coach continues, "I don't want a repeat of that game against Conifer last week. We have to prioritize our defense, okay? North Park will probably run a triangle offense to start like they did last time they played us, so keep an eye out and be quick in transitioning to cover the weak side. Sound good?"
The team nods with various verbalizations of 'yeah' s and 'yes-coach' s.
"Alright. For our starters: Rodriguez, you're point guard. Broflovski and Black on the wings. Tucker and Stoley, you're in the paint. Let's bring it in." Coach Kane puts his hand out, palm facing the floor.
All the players put their hands in the center of the huddle on top of each other.
"Okay, Cows on three! One, two, three COWS!" They all shout together and bring their hands down and back up.
They head out to the court and Kyle feels his heart pound harder with anticipation. He takes his position alongside his team and jumps up and down a few times in place, shaking out his hands to get out some of the usual pre-game jitters before settling back down again.
The referee comes onto the court for the toss. Tolkien takes the middle opposite the other team's center while Kyle and the other starters crouch down low, ready to move.
The whistle blows, and the ref throws the ball up.
Tolkien's not the tallest player on their team, but he can jump higher than anyone, so he manages to win the toss and quickly passes it to David to run the first offense.
To start out, they run a play they've practiced ad nauseum, so it's second nature. David dribbles up to the top of the three-point line, then Kyle does a one-eighty around the guy covering him and runs back for the pass to the left side of the court. He takes the ball in toward the center a few feet, waiting for everyone to get in position.
As soon as Tolkien loops around to the right side, Kyle quickly passes the ball back to David, who hands it off to Tolkien as he runs by. Tolkien is being covered too well to cut inside, but he finds an opening and passes to Kevin in the center, who does an easy right-sided lay-up and makes the basket for their first two points.
Hey, not bad for a first play.
"Excellent start, guys! Well done, keep up that energy!" Coach Kane yells from the sideline, clapping. Meanwhile the other team's coach has a hand on his chin and paces back and forth, scanning the court.
The crowd cheers, and Kyle sees Kevin and Tolkien fist bump each other with big grins on their faces before they move to their defensive positions on the other side of the court.
Kyle gets low and covers his man on the wing as the other team's point guard dribbles up, pointing and shouting directions to his teammates as they try to get open for the pass.
North Park passes the ball from one side of the court to the other on the periphery, trying to make an opening. But the home team follows their coach's advice and they manage to guard the moving players on the weak side, blocking off the momentum of the attack.
The other team changes their approach, passing the ball to a player who, based on how fucking smug he looks, has the best dribbling skills on their team to square up one-on-one against Kevin while the other players shift their positions around to try for another opening.
Kevin holds him off for a bit, playing good defense and managing to get a hand on the ball once or twice trying to steal it, but the other player keeps possession. He fakes right and breaks left, cutting around Kevin and through the center to get a shot off, and the ball goes in.
Since it's a home game, there are mostly boos from the crowd with a small subsection of cheering from the visiting team's spectators.
It's South Park's possession again, and the game goes on. They're pretty evenly matched teams, all things considered. North Park has the advantage on individual players with good ball handling and footwork, while South Park has an edge on the number of strong shooters they have. Kyle even manages to sink two three-pointers in a row, which definitely bolsters his ego because he hears his family and Stan, Kenny, and Cartman whooping and hollering encouragingly on the sidelines. Cartman, of course, is the loudest and most obnoxious.
"YEAH BROFLOVSKI, LET'S GO!" Cartman shrieks after the second three-pointer, loud enough to make Stan cover his ear with a wince. He shoots Cartman a dirty look while Kenny whistles with his fingers and claps. Kyle snorts with amusement.
By the end of the first quarter, they're neck-and-neck with a score of 12-14, North Park barely in the lead.
Kyle gets subbed out for half of the second quarter, but South Park gets the lead back with a couple good plays from Tolkien and Craig doing give-and-go's.
Craig ends up getting knocked over by the guy defending him one too many times for his liking. So, after he's knocked on his ass for the fourth time and Kevin helps him off his feet, he stares the guy down and flips him the bird. The other player's jaw drops open, but Craig was quick enough that the ref didn't see and he miraculously gets away with it.
This just makes the other dude more pissed off, especially when the ref ignores his pleas to call a technical. Coach Kane must not have noticed what happened because he looks very confused when Kyle and the other players on the bench try and fail to hide their snickering as the whole thing unfolds.
The other team has changed their players' positions up, so when Kyle goes back in he's paired up against that same smug dude from earlier.
Now that he's up close defending him, he quickly realizes this guy is a giant fucking ball hog. There are three plays in a row where he refuses to pass to his teammates that are wide open in favor of trying to take Kyle on himself. He's able to get past Kyle the first two times he does it. But, the more Kyle defends him the more he is able to predict his moves, so he's able to steal the ball from him the next time he tries for a quick turnover.
Kyle dribbles up the wing and almost makes it to the corner before his man catches up to him. Kyle protects the ball with his body and backs up against the other player, pushing him toward the center to gain some ground. When he has enough space, Kyle quickly cuts back to the sideline, turns, and takes a shot.
The ball arcs through the air beautifully and goes in with a very satisfying swish, nothing but net . Kyle grins and he can hear Cartman screaming like a maniac again over the crowd. But, the split second after he shoots, the smug dude gets to him and basically bulldozes him over.
Kyle yells in surprise and falls hard on his back, knocking the wind out of him, and he slides along the wooden floor a few feet from the momentum.
Fucking ow. That's definitely a foul.
He stares up at the ceiling for a second and blinks, stunned, taking a moment to get his bearings. Tolkien comes over and offers a hand, so Kyle takes it and is pulled to his feet.
"Nice dive, dude," Tolkien teases.
Kyle snorts and rolls his eyes. "Shut up." He takes stock of his body and it doesn't feel like he pulled a muscle or anything. Thank God. He'll definitely have some bruising, though.
He notices the guy who knocked him over is giving him a very unsubtle death glare, so Kyle stares right back and raises his eyebrows as a challenge, silently asking the fuck is your problem, bro? After a few seconds, the guy scoffs and looks away.
Hah. Fucking prick.
The referee tosses Kyle the ball for the free throw. He dribbles it in place a few times, then looks up at the basket.
He takes a deep breath, brings his arms up, and shoots.
The ball hits the backboard and goes in, and the crowd cheers.
"YEAH KAHL! FOUR POINT PLAY LET'S FUCKING GOOO!" Cartman screams. Jesus. He's so fucking loud Kyle can clearly hear what he's saying halfway across the gym.
Kyle's face burns with embarrassment. He whips his head around and finds Cartman in the crowd. He makes piercing eye contact with him and glares, anger boiling in his chest.
"Cartman, will you shut up?!" he yells.
"NO!" Cartman yells back.
His teammates snicker at their exchange, a few of them teasingly bumping him on the shoulder as they get back into defensive position. Kyle grinds his teeth in frustration.
After a few more plays the second quarter ends, the score now 26-20 with South Park in the lead.
They all return to the sideline for halftime. Kyle takes a clean towel off the bench and wipes off some of the sweat on his forehead and neck.
Man, he needs a haircut soon. His curls are long enough now that they cling to the back of his neck every time he sweats and it's really starting to annoy him. He takes a giant swig from his water bottle and sighs.
Craig sits down nearby and looks over at Kyle.
"So when did Cartman become your personal cheerleader?" Craig asks, his voice nasal and deadpan as always. He keeps eye contact with Kyle and takes a long drink of water.
Kyle's face burns hotter and he balks.
"I-I don't fucking know dude, it's Cartman!" he shouts. "He's just being an obnoxious asshole!"
Craig snorts with amusement and it makes Kyle want to punch him.
"I think it's sweet," David chimes in, clasping his hands together and making his voice high and teasing. The rest of the team laughs.
"Yeah, it's sooo adorable," Kevin says sarcastically. "You guys gonna make out later?" Then he joins David in making dramatic goo-goo eyes at Kyle.
Kyle's heart drops into his stomach and he wants to fucking scream.
He glares daggers at them.
"Shut. The fuck. Up," Kyle says through gritted teeth.
There's even more laughter and now Kyle really wants to fucking punch somebody, so much that his hands squeeze into fists at his sides. But he doesn't want to start shit in the middle of a game, so he somehow manages to be the bigger person and hold his tongue for once.
Also he knows the more he protests, the more they'll keep harassing him, and he might accidentally let something slip if they push him too hard. He sits on the bench and covers his face with one hand.
"Oh my God," he groans under his breath, vehemently ignoring the ongoing pestering behind him. He sighs and takes another drink of water.
God fucking dammit, if anyone ever finds out he and Cartman are actually dating for real, he is fucking doomed. He'll never be able to show his face in front of anyone at this school again.
Thankfully, they're interrupted by their coach calling for them.
"Bring it in, guys. Let's talk about plays for the second half," he says, and the team gathers around.
After halftime is over, their coach sends out the team's original starters, and Kyle is paired up with the same dude who ran him over.
North Park comes out guns blazing and takes the lead with three well executed pick-and-roll plays in a row. The home team has to adjust with a more aggressive defense, and luckily they're able to get a couple turnovers to catch up the score.
Kyle tries his best to be sportsmanlike. Truly, he does. But the smug asshole defending him is making it really fucking difficult. He keeps shooting Kyle those same death glares and fouls him again, twice, before the quarter is even halfway over.
Needless to say it's really pissing him off, especially on top of the residual anger from halftime.
So if Kyle pushes him a little too hard to win a rebound, or just so happens to jab his elbow into his chest when he jumps for the ball, that's neither here nor there. It's not obvious enough for the ref to call a foul on him, but Kyle's retaliation only makes the guy more dickish.
The third time he's knocked on his ass, Kyle officially decides he has no choice but to destroy this fucking loser.
It's the end of the third quarter with thirty seconds left. South Park wins another turnover and they sprint to the other side of the court to try to beat the clock. David dribbles up the center and passes to Craig. He holds onto the ball, but he can't find any openings, so he gives it back to David at the top of the key, who quickly throws it to Kyle on the weak side, and he's one v. one against Mr. Smug Asshole.
The situation couldn't be more perfect.
Kyle dribbles up and stays low, keeping eye contact with his defender. He waits for the guy to get closer, holds for a second, then crosses the ball over to the left. The guy shifts his weight, and Kyle then quickly feints right, making him shift his weight again, before taking the ball with his left hand and sprinting toward the center.
It happens in such quick succession that Kyle ends up juking the shit out of him, and the guy trips over his own feet and lands flat on his goddamn face.
This leaves Kyle plenty of room to dribble to the basket undefended, so he decides fuck it.
He jumps up high and fucking dunks it, holding on to the ring for a split second before letting his weight fall to the ground again with a thud.
The crowd completely loses it. On the sidelines, his team jumps to their feet, shouting and cheering like madmen. Someone screams "YOOOOO!" and several others join him, hyped as fuck because yeah, that was actually dope as hell.
Kyle grins with all his teeth showing, taking in the praise as his other teammates on the court run up and slap him encouragingly on the back. He finally got tall enough this year to dunk a few times during practice, but he's never done it during a game before and feels fucking awesome.
It's like he's on top of the world.
Weirdly, though, he notices a mysterious absence; Cartman's voice isn't anywhere among the screaming. He looks over to the stands and sees Stan and Kenny cheering, but no Cartman. His heart sinks with bitter, unexpected disappointment.
Dammit, where the fuck did that asshole go? He acts like an annoying overly-supportive prick the whole game and then doesn't stay long enough to watch Kyle's best play? Fucking weak.
Whatever. He tells himself it doesn't matter, because it doesn't. He's not going to let Cartman spoil this moment for him.
The rest of the game isn't nearly as exciting, but they win by a ten point margin so it's still pretty sweet.
After the game ends, the crowd slowly starts filing out of the gym and the North Park team leaves to go back to their bus, looking very dejected. Kyle can't help but feel smug.
As he's about to head back to the locker room, his friends come over from across the court and congratulate him.
"Kyle you were fucking awesome!" Stan exclaims, giving him a high-five.
"Thanks man," Kyle says with a smile.
"Yeah you totally kicked ass dude," Kenny says. He holds out a white paper bag. "Churro? I saved one for you."
"Oh nice, thanks Kenny," Kyle says. He grabs it and fishes the churro out of a bag, taking a few giant bites and finishing it in less than thirty seconds. Damn, he must have been pretty hungry after all that.
"Oh my God dude, when you totally faked out that guy? That was fucking sweet," Stan says.
Kyle grins wider. "Yeah, it felt pretty fucking sweet too," he says with his mouth full. "He was being a prick the whole game so he got what was coming to him."
They all laugh.
"So, uh," Kyle says with trepidation, swallowing the rest of the churro. "Where's Cartman?"
Kenny shrugs. "Dunno. He said he had to bounce a while ago."
"Oh," Kyle says, trying to hide his disappointment.
Stan's phone buzzes and he looks down to read the screen.
"Ah shit, I gotta go. My dad's spazzing out," Stan says. "Kenny, you still need a ride back?"
"Yeah, I'll come with you," Kenny says.
"Alright, uh. Thanks for coming guys. I'll see you tomorrow then, yeah?" Kyle says.
"Totally, dude! That was fucking great. Really good game." Stan smiles and slaps him on the back.
"Later, Kyle," Kenny says, also slapping him on the back, and the two of them head towards the side exit of the gym.
Kyle waves and watches them leave for a second before walking back to the locker room.
As he goes to grab his phone out of his backpack to text his mom that he's coming home, he realizes it's not in its usual pocket.
"Shit," Kyle mutters under his breath, frowning. He zips open another pocket and rummages around to search for it for a good minute.
"Hey, great game, Kyle. I'll see you in calc tomorrow," Tolkien says, shooting him a sideways peace sign as he hikes his backpack up his shoulder and heads to the door.
"Yeah, you too! See ya man," Kyle replies.
He hears the door swing open, then click shut again, and Kyle is alone in the locker room. He goes back to rummaging around in his backpack, but he still can't find his phone for the life of him.
"Goddammit…" Kyle grumbles aloud to himself. He knows he put it in here. He used it right before the game started so there's no way he left it somewhere else at school.
Kyle sits on the bench in the center of the room and holds his backpack in his lap so he can see better. He searches for another long moment, becoming increasingly panicked, when he's interrupted.
"Hello Kyle," says Cartman, who just appeared two feet behind him out of fucking nowhere.
"AH!" Kyle yells in surprise, jumping to his feet, arms flailing wildly. His backpack falls onto the floor, its contents spilling in a heap. Kyle turns around with a growl.
"Jesus Christ, Cartman, what the fuck?! You scared the shit out of me!"
Kyle glares daggers at Cartman and clutches his chest over his rapidly-beating heart, attempting to control his breathing.
Cartman doesn't look sorry in the slightest, but he doesn't look smug either. In fact, he looks oddly serious and he's just kind of… standing there awkwardly. Kyle squints at him in confusion.
"What are you doing in here?" Kyle demands.
Cartman blinks a few times and wordlessly reaches into his back pocket, pulling out Kyle's phone.
"Wh— give me that!" Kyle shouts, dashing forward and quickly snatching it out of his hand. He stuffs it into its usual compartment in his backpack and zips it up, holding the bag close to his chest protectively. But, Cartman doesn't make any moves to try to take it back. He keeps on standing there all stoic and silent, and it's starting to freak Kyle out.
Kyle frowns, annoyed.
"Why did you take my phone, fatass? What the fuck did you do to it?"
Cartman shifts on his feet. He's not meeting Kyle's eyes, which makes Kyle even more suspicious.
"I needed to get you alone," Cartman says after a moment.
"What? Why?" Kyle asks.
Cartman huffs and seems to steel himself before slowly approaching Kyle. Kyle moves his bag behind him and backs up against the lockers on the far side.
"Oh, no you don't. Don't you dare try to take anything else from me, asshole! What did you do to my phone?!"
"I didn't do anything to it," Cartman says.
"Bullshit," Kyle snaps.
Cartman shakes his head.
"I really didn't, Kyle. I swear."
Kyle barks a laugh. "Yeah right. I don't believe that for a second."
Cartman keeps walking towards him, and Kyle has half a mind to just run out of the locker room while he still has all of his belongings. But he still hasn't gotten a real explanation from this fucking klepto, and he's not going to leave until he does.
"Answer my question, dickhead," Kyle growls. "Or I'll knock your fucking teeth out."
All of a sudden Cartman is right up in Kyle's personal space. Kyle glares down at him, taking advantage of the several inches of height he's managed to gain over Cartman during the past couple years, ready to throw hands any second.
"Well?" Kyle snaps.
Instead of responding, Cartman lays a gentle hand on Kyle's chest, and Kyle's heart sputters. Cartman holds his hand there steadily, his palm right over Kyle's sternum.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Kyle asks.
Cartman finally looks up and meets Kyle's gaze, and Kyle is stunned.
Those huge brown eyes Cartman has are somehow glazed over and hyper-focused at the same time, his lids hooded, mouth parted slightly as he takes short, shallow breaths. It triggers a fluttery feeling in Kyle's abdomen, making his breath catch.
Kyle knows this look. It's Cartman's horny look.
Oh, Jesus. Kyle's heart rate picks up again and he feels his dick twitch in a Pavlovian response to Cartman's bedroom eyes.
Shit.
Cartman slides his hand up higher on Kyle's chest, over his clavicle, and curls his fingers over the side of Kyle's neck. Kyle cringes because he's still kind of sweaty and Cartman's just… running his hand through it. But his touch is shockingly gentle, almost reverent, and Kyle can't help letting out a shaky breath, his skin tingling where Cartman's thumb is slowly caressing him. The pink in Cartman's cheeks is clearly visible under the buzzing fluorescent lights.
Kyle's gaze falls to Cartman's parted lips.
"Cartman…?" Kyle asks quietly.
Wordlessly, Cartman pulls on Kyle's neck, and then they're kissing.
Still in shock, Kyle can't respond properly right away, but after a moment Cartman coaxes his mouth open with his tongue and Kyle moans low in his throat. Dropping his backpack to the floor, he lets himself sink fully into the kiss, holding Cartman's face with both hands. He thrills over the needy whine Cartman lets out and moves to grip Cartman's hair with one hand and pull him closer by the waist with the other.
The longer they kiss, the more aggressive Cartman becomes, moving his lips faster, humming into Kyle's mouth, clutching Kyle's jersey with his fists, leaning all of his weight against him until he's crushed up against the lockers, as close as they can possibly be.
Kyle squeezes Cartman's chubby hips with both hands and Cartman breaks the kiss with a short gasp before diving back in, sliding his fingers into Kyle's hair and petting the nape of his neck in a way that gives Kyle goosebumps.
As much as Kyle is loving this impromptu make-out with Cartman, his logical brain eventually kicks in again and reminds him that they're still technically in public. Kyle reluctantly pulls away and has to grip Cartman's shoulders to keep him from leaning in again.
"Cartman, hey, slow down," Kyle murmurs. In response, Cartman pouts and tries to kiss him again, but Kyle locks his arms and keeps him away. "Hey, c'mon, can you just chill for a second? What's going on with you?"
Cartman lets out a frustrated huff and plops his face against Kyle's chest.
"Fuck you, Kyle," Cartman says, his words muffled in fabric. "Why are you so hot?"
Kyle balks at the unexpected backhanded compliment.
"E-excuse me?"
Cartman lets out an exasperated groan, and Kyle feels the vibration of it against his chest.
"That fucking game, Kyle. God," Cartman says, then he pulls back and looks up at Kyle's face. "You totally kicked their asses like it was nothing, and you looked so goddamn sexy doing it . I mean did you see the look on that guy's face after you juked the shit out of him?" He laughs breathlessly and bites his bottom lip. "You almost made him cry, Kyle."
"Wait, you saw that?" Kyle asks, confused.
Cartman scoffs.
"Wh— Of course I saw it! But I had to leave because you made me pop a fucking boner, Kyle! If I wasn't in public I totally would have started jacking off. That was, like, the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen you do."
Kyle's face burns like a furnace. That compliment was entirely lacking in backhandedness and it makes his stomach flutter like crazy.
"Uh… Th-thank you?" Kyle says, not sure how else to respond.
Cartman shuffles closer again until his face is tucked in Kyle's neck, breaths tickling Kyle's skin, and he takes a slow deep breath in and out. On the exhale, Cartman shivers and he moves his hands around Kyle's waist, squeezing his body tightly for a moment before sliding his palms under Kyle's jersey and up his sweaty lower back.
Kyle's breath hitches and he's suddenly overwhelmed by the gentle intimacy Cartman is giving him. A wave of arousal flashes through him all the way to his fingertips, so strongly that his hands unintentionally curl into fists around Cartman's shirt at the shoulders.
"Mm, damn, you smell good… " Cartman murmurs, mouthing at his neck. His hands slide higher up Kyle's back and Kyle actually can't breathe.
What the hell is happening? Kyle's sweaty and gross from exercising and Cartman thinks he smells… good?
"Cartman," Kyle mumbles, too stunned to say anything else. Cartman presses more soft kisses to his neck and opens his mouth, sucking at Kyle's skin. Kyle sighs and he tilts his head back, gripping tighter at Cartman's shirt, his dick getting harder in his shorts, pressed up against Cartman's hip.
"F-fuck," Kyle stutters. His neck is always so goddamn sensitive, and Cartman always takes full advantage of that.
Cartman takes another deep breath against Kyle's skin.
"So unfair… You're fucking gorgeous , Kyle, God—" Cartman groans.
Jesus fucking Christ, Kyle's going to explode. His heart can't take much more of Cartman praising him like this.
Paradoxically, though, it's… a nice feeling. Overwhelming, but really fucking nice. But all this attention is just… so much right now, it's at the cusp of bleeding over into uncomfortable and weird.
Before Kyle can sort out his thoughts, Cartman is suddenly kissing him over and over, almost frantic as he works his way down his neck. Kyle sighs again and buries his fingers in Cartman's thick hair, those soft, full lips pressing over Kyle's chest, his abdomen, lower and lower until Cartman fucking sinks to his knees in front of him.
Kyle's throat dries up in an instant.
He is a hundred percent sure he's had a wet dream (or several) involving this exact scenario, and it makes his brain short-circuit.
But Cartman has never done anything like this with him before. In the few months they've been fooling around, the most they've done is make out and jack off together, and they haven't touched each other below the belt at all.
Ever since that incident a few weeks ago with Cartman freezing up on him, Kyle has intentionally been taking things really fucking slow to keep anything like that from happening again. He's been careful, and thankfully Cartman has been okay.
So, needless to say Cartman has never even touched his dick, and now all of a sudden his mouth is literally inches away from it.
Kyle feels outside his own body as he watches Cartman kiss over his hip bones, pulling his shorts down a little to get at his skin. Cartman creeps his way inward and breathes deeply, until he gets so overwhelmingly close to Kyle's cock that he finally manages to snap back to himself. He gasps like he's surfacing from underwater, because that's exactly what it feels like.
"W-wait, Cartman—!" he chokes, gripping hard at Cartman's hair to pull him away from his crotch. "Fuck, would you please slow down for a second?"
To his credit, Cartman doesn't move even after Kyle's grip relaxes, but then he slumps and whines dejectedly into the fabric of Kyle's shorts at his outer thigh, clinging to his legs.
"Nngh, goddammit Kyle just— jus' let me suck you off, please— Please," Cartman slurs.
Kyle swallows thickly, breathing hard. God. He's fucking begging.
An unexpected thrill runs up Kyle's spine, dark and cloying. Cartman's voice is low and desperate and rough with arousal, and Kyle wants to hear more of it. He wants to make him stay there on his knees, looking up at Kyle like he hung the moon, just as he is now.
It makes him feel... powerful.
Kyle shivers, shaking his head twice to try to clear his thoughts. He lays a palm over Cartman's hand where it's clinging to his thigh and squeezes.
"Jesus, Cartman, are— are you sure? We haven't— we haven't even done hand stuff yet," Kyle says, panting.
Cartman groans impatiently.
"Yes I'm fucking sure, Kyle! I've wanted to blow you for fucking years."
Kyle's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.
Time slows to a stop.
Cartman's face falls as he belatedly realizes the gravity of what he just said.
"I- I mean— I just— shit," Cartman stutters, closing his eyes and cringing.
"What?!" Kyle says, grabbing Cartman's face and forcing him to look at him. "What do you mean years?"
They hold each other's gaze for a long moment, asking a million silent questions, before Cartman flinches and breaks out of Kyle's grip, eyes darting to the side.
Kyle watches Cartman's face cycle through several different unnamed emotions, but what Kyle sees the most is… shame.
"Don't make me say it again," Cartman pleads quietly. He clears his throat, sniffs and wipes his nose with the back of his hand.
Kyle's heart suddenly feels like it's made of lead. No. This is wrong. Cartman shouldn't be ashamed. Where the fuck is this coming from? He's Cartman. Kyle didn't even know he was capable of shame, yet he can still see it written all over his face.
"Go ahead and laugh it up, Kyle," Cartman spits. He gets off his haunches to fully sit on the floor, putting some distance between them.
Kyle is silent, completely at a loss for what to say.
At his lack of response, vitriol bleeds into Cartman's expression.
"What?!" Catman snaps. "Stop fucking looking at me like that! What do you want me to say, huh? That I've always been a raging cockslut faggot? Is that what you wanna hear? It's… it's your fault I'm like this, Kyle!" Cartman's breath hitches and his voice breaks. "Y-you fucking ruined me! Goddammit—" He takes a few shaky breaths, clenching his jaw and staring at the floor with the side of his fist pressed to his forehead.
Kyle's mouth is gaping open like a fish. God. He can't even begin to think about the implications of this.
Years. Fucking years?
If what he's saying is true, Cartman has wanted him longer than Kyle ever realized.
Without thinking, Kyle crouches down to the floor and pulls Cartman into a hug.
Cartman stiffens, but Kyle keeps holding him. It takes a while, but Cartman eventually relaxes and brings his arms up to hug Kyle back.
"I'm not gonna laugh at you," Kyle says.
Cartman scoffs, disbelieving. Kyle tightens his arms and keeps him close.
"Hey, come on," Kyle says, holding the back of Cartman's head protectively. "I promise I won't ever laugh at you for stuff like this. It's okay."
Cartman is silent for a long moment, then he exhales shakily and rests his forehead against Kyle's shoulder.
"You won't?" Cartman murmurs.
"Yeah. So long as you promise not to laugh at me too."
Right on cue, Cartman laughs weakly through his nose.
"Okay," Cartman replies.
"You promise? No laughing about sex stuff?" Kyle asks. Always good to demand explicit confirmation from this asshole.
"Yeah yeah, I promise, Kyle."
"Good."
"...You want that in writing, you fuckin' stickler?" Cartman teases. Kyle can hear the hint of a smile in his voice and it immediately makes his heart feel lighter.
Kyle snorts and smirks, squeezing Cartman a little tighter.
"Nah, I'm good."
He's usually suspicious any time Cartman agrees to a promise, especially this quickly, but he finds himself trusting him for once. Kyle knows Cartman wants to make their relationship work just as much as he does. They're both too far in this now not to try.
He releases his hold and sits back to look at Cartman's face. Thank God, Kyle doesn't see shame there anymore, even if his eyes are still oddly sad.
They look at each other for a quiet moment, then Kyle sighs and runs a hand down his own face, exasperated.
"Jesus, dude. You gotta fucking warn me next time, okay? We have to talk about this shit beforehand."
"...What do you mean?" Cartman asks.
Ah. Right. Kyle has to explain this stuff to him like he's a toddler because this motherfucker couldn't recognize a healthy relationship if it ran up and bit him in the ass.
Kyle feels his face heat up before answering.
"Y'know, like… fantasies and stuff. You're not supposed to just spring that on people," Kyle says, then scratches his cheek. "Even if they're like… into it."
Cartman thinks for a moment, then his eyebrows shoot up in realization.
"So… were you?"
"What?"
"Into it."
Kyle can't meet his eyes, but after a moment he nods.
"Yeah," Kyle admits, huffing out a laugh. Then, quieter, almost to himself, he says "That was… really fucking hot."
Cartman stares at him for a second then eagerly scooches closer, crowding into his personal space again.
"So… it's okay then?" Cartman asks, his voice hopeful. "Does this count as talking about it?"
Kyle's face heats up even more and he smirks.
"Yeah, I think this counts."
"Oh thank God," Cartman breathes, grabbing Kyle's jersey and pulling him into a kiss once more.
They quickly pick up where they left off, and Kyle immediately feels better than before, now that there's no ambiguity between them. His chest is light and weirdly giddy with excitement.
Then the reality of the situation hits him like a truck and he can't breathe for a second. Cartman's actually going to suck his dick. Holy fucking shit.
Kyle moans low in his throat and slides their tongues together, his arms wrapping around Cartman's waist to pull him closer. Cartman's hands move up Kyle's body, one threading into his hair and the other cradling his jaw.
Cartman leans forward and pushes until Kyle's lying on his back. He should probably be concerned about how filthy the locker room floor is because God knows how often they clean this place, but he can't bring himself to care right now because fuck it, he's dirty anyway and he's too busy staring in awe as Cartman swings his leg over to straddle Kyle's hips and kiss him deeper.
Kyle doesn't dare move because this is how close they were back when Cartman first froze up on him. But, his worry is quickly dispelled when Cartman reaches down and palms him through his shorts, squeezing his cock with gentle pressure.
Kyle breaks the kiss with a gasp and his hips tilt up on instinct, eager for more friction. Heat pulses low in his belly and he digs his nails into the soft flesh of Cartman's waist.
"Fuck, Kyle… You're so hard…" Cartman moans against his skin, increasing the pressure of his hand. He slowly starts to rub up and down his shaft over his clothes. Kyle chokes and his whole body shudders.
"H-holy shit, Cartman— " Kyle gasps.
Cartman is panting like crazy as he makes his way down Kyle's body again, this time pushing up Kyle's jersey and exposing his skin as he trails wet kisses down the center of Kyle's chest and abdomen, still palming his cock, tongue laving over his sweaty skin like he's the best thing he's ever tasted.
Kyle is fucking shaking from anticipation when Cartman hooks his fingers into his waistband, leaving more messy kisses as he tugs them down. Kyle cranes his neck to peer down at Cartman, who's currently staring at Kyle's crotch with laser-focus, blushing so hard now his whole face is bright pink. Cartman's got that same blatantly-horny look in his eyes as before, but dialed up to fucking eleven.
Then, unexpectedly, Cartman stops his war path and meets Kyle's gaze.
Kyle's heart pounds faster at the lust he sees smoldering behind those unfairly beautiful brown eyes. But there's also a silent question, so Kyle takes a deep, shaky breath and nods.
He hardly dares to breathe as his dick is exposed to the cool air and Cartman wraps a hand around him. Kyle stares unseeing at the ceiling, head buzzing like a swarm of angry wasps.
After an unbearable few seconds, he feels the slick heat of Cartman's tongue lick the tip of his cock. Kyle groans and bites down hard on his bottom lip, pleasure shooting up his spine.
Before he can recover, Cartman takes him into his mouth and it's hot and wet and so fucking good.
Kyle throws his head back and moans like it was punched out of him, so loud it echoes off the walls. Cartman swallows around him and grips at his thighs, whining needily.
"Holy fuck—" Kyle blurts, amazed that he's able to articulate any words at all right now because his brain has turned to pudding.
He doesn't know how the hell he expected this to feel, but it's like he's being smothered with sensation, heavy and rich like molasses. The world could explode around them and Kyle probably wouldn't notice.
The only thing he can focus on is the fact that Cartman is sucking him down like it's the fourth of July and his dick is a fucking firecracker popsicle. Cartman clutches his hips tightly as he starts to slowly bob his head up and down, trailing his tongue along the underside of his shaft, letting out these tiny whimpers and moans every few seconds that Kyle can feel more than hear.
God, Cartman looks so fucking good with his lips stretched around his cock.
"Fuck fuck fuck… Ngh— oh fuck yes—" Kyle moans, his hips twitching, legs shaking uncontrollably.
Curling his hands into fists at his sides, Kyle struggles to keep from touching Cartman because as much as he wants to, he doesn't trust himself not to grab Cartman's hair and just hold him there, thrust as far down his throat as he can… make him fucking choke.
God, he wants to make Cartman choke so fucking bad.
Finally, Cartman pulls off of him and gasps, his hot breaths fanning over Kyle's dick. He pumps Kyle's shaft with one hand and starts kissing and nipping at the inside of his thigh, making Kyle squirm from even more sensation.
"O-oh my God," Cartman whispers against his skin, pressing more wet kisses, licking his skin. "Kyle, you taste fucking amazing, holy shit… "
Before Kyle fully catches his breath, Cartman is sucking him down again and Kyle couldn't control the sounds leaving his own mouth if he tried. Thick euphoria settles over him like a heavy cloud, impossibly warm and addicting. He's trying to hold off from coming as long as he can, biting down on the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood, clenching his fists so hard he can feel his fingernails leaving deep divots in his palms.
He desperately doesn't want this to be over yet but he's so fucking close.
Cartman breaks away again and Kyle groans.
"That's it, Kyle," Cartman encourages, pumping his cock using the slick of his saliva, grip twisting deliciously when he gets to the tip before moving down again, his strokes quickening.
Cartman presses a heavy, lingering kiss to the tip of his dick.
"I want you to come down my throat," Cartman murmurs, his voice gravelly and dark.
"Oh God," Kyle chokes, and Cartman sucks him down once again with a gruff moan, taking him impossibly further into his hot, wet mouth.
It's too much. Kyle's willpower shatters and he finally gives in. He digs his hands into Cartman's soft, thick hair and grips him roughly, pushing his head down until he gags a little, sputtering around his cock, breathing harshly through his nose. But rather than pulling away, Cartman lets out a rumbling, lascivious moan and opens his jaw even wider, clutching Kyle's shaking thighs like a lifeline.
"Oh, fuck yes, Cartman…" Kyle moans, and then he's gone.
He finally falls over the edge and comes hard in Cartman's mouth, gasping and moaning and tugging at Cartman's hair, letting the sweet euphoria wash over him in waves. He can feel Cartman swallow around him, throat clicking as he fights to keep from choking, still sucking Kyle's cock and pulling impossibly more sensation from him until his body has no more left to give.
His ears are buzzing as he gradually comes down again, falling back into himself with a heavy, appreciative sigh, Cartman still holding his softening length in his mouth. Kyle's fingers finally loosen and he starts combing them through Cartman's hair as a half-hearted apology for pulling so hard and Cartman hums contentedly.
Cartman gives his cock one last gentle suck before pulling away and resting his forehead against the inside of Kyle's thigh, breathing heavily with an occasional cough.
It takes way longer than Kyle wants to admit for him to gain his full faculties back, but when he does he's overcome with the desire to touch Cartman, so much that his fingers itch with it.
He wants to make him come just as hard as he did.
"Cartman," Kyle murmurs, tugging at Cartman's shoulders. "Get the fuck up here."
Cartman resists him and shakes his head weakly.
"S'okay Kyle," he says, but Kyle keeps tugging.
"Let me touch you," he demands, his voice rough.
Cartman shakes his head again, faster this time, and Kyle's heart sinks. What the fuck?
"Why not?" Kyle asks, not bothering to hide his disappointment.
Cartman groans and plops his forehead against Kyle's hip.
"'Cause I already fuckin' creamed my pants," he mutters.
Kyle blinks stupidly.
"...Oh."
"Ugggh," Cartman groans, drawing out the syllable, pressing his head harder against Kyle's hip. "Jesus Christ, Kyle. That was, like… so fucking hot. Oh my God…"
Kyle barks a laugh, overwhelmed and giddy because fuck yeah it was.
"Hey!" Cartman snaps, whipping his head up to glare at Kyle. "You literally just said you wouldn't laugh at me, you son of a bitch!"
"I'm not laughing at you," Kyle says honestly. "I'm only laughing because… Jesus, dude. That was fucking crazy."
Cartman narrows his eyes, not convinced.
"Like holy shit, Cartman. That— You were— holy shit," Kyle stutters and trails off, staring at the ceiling, utterly at a loss for words accurate enough to describe how he feels.
Cartman's expression is unchanged. He looks angry and… kind of hurt. Shit.
Kyle lets out a short sigh. Not sure what else to do, Kyle reaches down and brushes back the hair on Cartman's forehead. He moves his hand down to hold his face and pets the apple of his cheek with his thumb. He can't help smiling as the blush on Cartman's face deepens.
Even under the harsh, flickering fluorescent lights, Cartman looks stupidly beautiful. He really does. Kyle wonders how he ever could have thought otherwise.
Cartman's eyes soften and he blinks.
"Kyle?" he murmurs, leaning slightly into Kyle's hand.
Kyle wants to kiss him again.
But just as he's about to, they're interrupted by Kyle's phone ringing from inside his backpack. They both jolt. Cartman breaks away from Kyle's touch and frowns, reaching over to grab the bag where Kyle dropped it because he's closer.
Cartman pulls out the phone and looks at the caller ID with a quizzical expression. Then, all of a sudden his grin widens like the Cheshire Cat.
Oh no.
Before Kyle can stop him, Cartman answers the phone with a slide of his finger.
"Well, hello Mrs. Broflovski!" he says cheerily into the receiver.
Kyle's jaw drops open. He glares furiously, mouthing "what the fuck?!" over and over, trying to snatch the phone back, but Cartman keeps smacking his hand away.
"Kyle? Oh, he's a little busy at the moment. Can I take a message?" he asks, looking Kyle dead in the eyes as he leans down and trails his tongue up the length of his softening cock.
Kyle grits his teeth and forces himself to look away before he gets hard again, pounding a fist against the floor in frustration.
"I fucking hate you so much, Cartman," Kyle seethes, struggling to keep his voice quiet.
He can't make out his mom's words as she replies, but she sounds worried and a little pissed.
"No, it's alright, he'll be home in like a half-hour or something. Yeah."
Cartman nods as he listens again, smiling impossibly wider.
"Of course! Yes, I'll tell him. Uh-huh. Yep. Okay, bye!" Cartman finally hangs up and puts Kyle's phone back in his bag. Kyle wants to punch his smug fucking face in.
"What. The hell. Is wrong with you?!" Kyle growls as Cartman helps pull up his boxers.
"Your mom says she's proud of you," Cartman teases, batting his eyelashes. "Aww, isn't that adorable?"
"Oh my God…" Kyle grumbles and shakes his head. "You're the fucking worst."
Cartman snickers as he helps pull up Kyle's shorts again, and Kyle sighs in relief because goddamn, the air in here is getting cold.
They both sit up gingerly, stiff from lying on the hard locker room floor for so long. Kyle stands and offers a hand to help Cartman up, pulling him to his feet.
They clean themselves up in the nearby bathroom, Cartman taking a little longer because of the, uh… bigger mess. But eventually they're both decent enough to venture out into the real world again.
The school's hallways are dim and empty except for a random janitor they pass mopping the floor, so luckily they don't run into anyone they know. Kyle doesn't know how much social interaction he'd be able to navigate with his brain still feeling like jello from everything that just happened.
He can't get over how fucking… ridiculously hot that was. He also can't get over the fact Cartman came in his pants without Kyle even having to touch him, even though he wanted to.
God, he really wants to touch him back next time.
He also really wants more details about exactly how long Cartman has wanted to fuck him, if he was serious when he said years. But, given his horrible reaction earlier, Kyle knows it's not a good idea to ask again right now. Cartman has been shockingly (if unintentionally) vulnerable with him and, while Kyle deeply appreciates that, Cartman's fragile ego likely took one too many hits today and he doesn't want to break him.
"I'm coming over for dinner, by the way," Cartman says as they make their way towards the exit by the parking lot.
"What?" Kyle asks, squinting in disbelief. "My mom invited you over?"
Cartman grins.
"Indeed she did, Kyle. She's making that stew you love so much to celebrate your big win," he says, his voice overly saccharine. He walks closer to Kyle and hooks their arms together, leaning his weight against him.
Kyle smiles back. He does love his mom's homemade stew, and the way Cartman's gazing up at him right now makes his heart feel full.
"Okay, but don't do anything weird around my parents, alright?" Kyle says.
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Kyle," Cartman says with a sardonic grin, quickly reaching his neck up to kiss Kyle on the cheek and speak right into his ear. "And I'm definitely not gonna be sitting at your dinner table thinking about how hot you sound when you come."
Kyle's eyes widen and he sputters, smacking Cartman on the shoulder.
"Cartman, Jesus Christ!"
"What?" Cartman asks, falsely innocent.
"Stop it, dude, you're gonna make me horny again," he mutters, face burning.
"Ooh, am I?" Cartman says. His eyes light up and he leans further into Kyle's side.
"Yes, so shut the fuck up!" Kyle grits out.
"Hm. I don't see a problem with that, Kyle," Cartman murmurs, turning his head to press a few soft, lingering kisses on Kyle's neck.
Kyle growls and grabs Cartman by both shoulders, pushing until his back smacks against the hallway lockers, kissing him hard in retaliation. Cartman lets out a muffled moan, smiling into the kiss, and they get lost in each other again for a while.
They're definitely going to be late for dinner.
oooooooooo
*author's note: ohgoddon'tlookatme this smut was ridiculously self-indulgent 🙈 and I couldn't help making Cartman a bit of a smell freak after reading "Know Your Enemy" by elsen so many times lol. It fits his obsessive personality SO damn well.
Thanks for reading y'all! ❤️💚 also if you want, comment which High School Musical is your fav, I'm curious 👀 I like the first one cuz I'm an old school bitch wcyd
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