Chapter Text
The next time Kyle saw Cartman was in their Sociology class. It’s the worst possible class to be in with someone like Cartman, yet he’d find himself living for the debates it sparks. There was something about a good topical argument that Kyle found thrilling, especially since he and Stan agree on most things and Kenny never wants to talk about school shit.
“You’re glowing, Broflovski,” Cartman said after class while Kyle was gathering up his books. “I’m guessing Stan finally made a move.”
Kyle ducked his head, flush unwillingly creeping up his throat. “Yeah, well. Thanks to you, I guess.” He met Cartman’s gaze head on and caught an uncomfortable look on his face.
“Whatever. How was it then?”
Kyle shifted his bag higher on his shoulder. They were standing in the mid-section of the room, the rest of the class having trickled out. “How was what?”
“The sex, stupid,” Cartman said, rolling his eyes in exaggerated fashion.
Kyle did flush then, up to his cheeks and also felt slightly uncomfortable and hot for a different reason all together. Cartman’s gaze was penetrating and it made him shiver.
“It was good.”
Cartman looked at him skeptically. “Only good? It wasn’t everything you ever imagined? It didn’t make your balls sweat and your asshole flutter?”
“Jesus Christ, Cartman!” he choked out, looking around even though they were alone.
Cartman shook his head ruefully. “Nah, I guess it was just sunshine and roses.”
“Fuck off, okay? I was trying to be tactful but since you’re being an ass, it was fucking amazing.”
Something flashed in Cartman’s eyes that Kyle couldn’t read. “You’re welcome,” he said and started walking up the carpeted steps to the door.
Kyle’s feet felt frozen and it was a second or two before he followed. “Cartman!” he called from the doorway and met up with him the hall.
“What?”
“Just – I just don’t want shit to be weird between us.”
Cartman stared straight ahead. “And why would it be?”
“Because – I mean, you--”
Cartman stopped abruptly and turned to face Kyle, who nearly collided into him. “I asked you on a date, I didn’t ask you to be my gay life partner. Jesus.”
It was more than a date, and they both knew that. Cartman had asked him out out.
They started to walk together; Kyle had plans to meet Stan at the Commons.
“Okay, whatever,” Kyle muttered. He snuck a glance at Cartman as they walked. The way he was two-strapping it because he said two-straps are now cool and one straps were for lame-o’s. Kyle’s been a one-strap guy since high school. Cartman’s shoulders were wide and his shirt tightly fitted over them. Kyle recalled the way those same shoulders felt pressing him down, using all his girth, so much wider than Stan’s slim frame, yet he fit into it well. Kyle shook the thoughts away, unable to believe they were even forming.
“You wanna hang or whatever?” Cartman asked, faux-nonchalant as they exited the Social Sciences building. Kyle could totally hear the tension and slight annoyance in his tone.
“Plans with Stan,” Kyle replied softly.
Cartman scoffed and stopped walking, hitching his backpack a little higher. Kyle turned to face him. “Right. You two gonna be even more attached at the hip now than you already were? Gonna make out on the grass in front of the library and feed each other M&Ms?”
Kyle rolled his eyes but still felt his face heat. “Since when do I do PDA’s?”
“Since you finally nailed your childhood sweetheart?”
Kyle eyed him stubbornly and crossed his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start changing who I am for him.”
Cartman raised his hands in acquiescence. “Whatever you say, Jew. Just don’t forget other people exist or whatever.”
“Stan’s the co-dependent one, not me, Cartman.”
Cartman laughed and it sounded mean, made Kyle’s skin on his neck prickle.
“What?” he asked, flatly.
Cartman looked around loftily and picked at his cuticle. “It’s cute that you think so, Broflovski.”
Kyle was totally gonna be fucking late meeting Stan but god damn it, he needed to know what Cartman was going on about. He gritted his teeth and said, in his calmest yet most condescending tone possible, “And just how am I co-dependent on Stan, fuck face?”
When Cartman’s eyes finally met his again they were hard. “Have you even dated? Anyone? At fucking all?”
Kyle’s mouth worked silently for a moment, completely stunned by the question. “I—fuck you, I have.”
Cartman scoffed again. “No you haven’t. You’ve had random hookups.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
Cartman opened his mouth and then snuck his teeth into his bottom lip. “Nothing. You know what, fucking nothing,” he said, getting a little loud and throwing his hands up dramatically. Kyle winced. Cartman’s dramatics really weren’t something for an outside, crowded campus.
“Cartman, would you fuckin--” Kyle started, ready to ask him to chill out or at least let them take this somewhere else, but Cartman cut him off by taking a step forward, right into Kyle’s space.
Kyle gulped as Cartman looked down at him. The few inches of height Cartman had him had proved to be really fucking hot that first night they hooked up, bounding into Cartman’s dorm room and arguing over the trivia night they’d just come from, Stan having been off hanging with Kenny and his frat bros, because for some reason he was considering joining.
Cartman kept insisting the answer to the question which had caused them both to lose, since they’d been on a team together, had been wrong and Kyle was patient at first and then irritated and then flat out pissed, which soon devolved into a yelling match over everything they’ve ever fought about their entire lives, which then devolved into Cartman pushing Kyle up against his door, hovering over him, breath hot against his face, their eyes wide yet still fierce from the argument, before Cartman had said “Oh fuck it,” and crashed their lips together in one of the hottest, most intense kisses Kyle’s ever experienced in his 19 years on this earth.
Kyle felt his cheeks flame as he thought about it now, Cartman gazing down at him, room between them but not enough to keep his breath from going short.
“Look, I. For all our fucking lives you’ve called me a selfish bastard and so I fuckin’ – that was me doing something unselfish, okay?”
Kyle nodded slowly, throat working, not trusting himself to speak.
“But don’t fucking think for one second that I almost didn’t. Don’t think that I didn’t consider winning you over somehow. But I fuckin’ realized… what good would that do? You’ve got this – this fantasy of you and Stan in your head, so much so that you’ve never really given anyone else a chance.”
“And you have?” Kyle shot back at him, on automatic. He knew that was a low blow but he couldn’t help it.
Kyle thought he actually saw hurt flash in Cartman’s eyes but it was so brief he could hardly be sure. “Yeah, so, maybe all I’ve had is hookups, too. But there’s a difference between you and me, Jew.” Cartman leaned in so their faces were practically touching and whispered, deceptively soft, in his ear. “No one’s ever wanted to date me.”
Kyle closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Cartman was moving away and down the steps before he could gather any semblance of thought.
“Cartman!” he called out, and watched as he turned around slowly, expectant. “I,” Kyle started, feeling so fucked up right. He thought shit like this, feeling helpless and confused and so fucking small was supposed to stop after high school. “I really don’t want this to fuck us up.”
God help him, but Cartman’s come to—matter. A lot. More than Kyle perhaps realized. And watching him walk away right now, even if it was just him going to his dorm or the cafeteria, was akin to watching Stan walk away from him at the airport, boarding a plane to New York and Wendy. And that’s….
Fuck.
Cartman smiled but it looked sad. “You got what you always wanted, Jew. The fantasy is becoming a reality. So how about you see if it lives up to it. And in the meantime, I’m gonna chill in the lovely quiet of my room. You got me?”
Kyle nodded, mouth dry. “Yeah. I got you.”
Cartman saluted and jogged down the stairs and out of sight. He could do that. He could – give Cartman space while figuring this shit out with Stan.
No fucking problem.
___________________________
two months later
Kyle sat at desk in his room, laptop open, fingers hovering over the keys. His roommate was out and Kyle had lifted one of his beers. Okay, maybe two of his beers. Maybe three. And now he was banging his head on his desk before looking up determinedly to type.
Google stared back mockingly.
can you be in love with two people at once Kyle typed in. He didn’t know how else to phrase it. He didn’t even know what the fuck he was feeling anymore. Maybe it wasn’t love. At all.
These past two months since getting together with Stan have been… a fucking whirlwind. Things had been so incredible that first night together, right up until the Cartman bombshell that fucked Kyle up and started all this bullshit, but the sex since then -- Kyle didn’t know how to describe it. It was good, it was – it felt good of course, but the passion that seemed to be present on that first night just wasn’t there all the subsequent times they did it. Like, it just felt comfortable and almost – going through the motions. Kyle knew his mind was elsewhere at times lately but it didn’t really explain how passive Stan was himself. Kyle started really second guessing a lot of shit. Like maybe it was only that hot the first time because Stan really did think he was still in competition with Cartman. Maybe it was his last, desperate attempt to give Kyle what he thought he wanted so he didn’t lose him.
Kyle didn’t want to believe so – after all Stan did break up with Wendy after the kiss – but that was so Stan. Stan, who hated doing something that would make someone dislike him. Stan, who needed to right wrongs by taking extreme actions. Maybe Kyle was just an extreme fucking action.
Not to mention Stan’s been all about the frat these days, after having pledged and gotten in. It was all he talked about and they have to go do frat-related things all the time and Kyle’s so fucking sick of it already.
That’s where Stan was right now, them having fought about Kyle coming and Kyle fucking putting his foot down that no, he really doesn’t feel like going to yet another Friday night keg stand party with douche dudebros.
So instead, he was googling love advice and drinking because what better way to spend your last year as a teenager, right?
The first result on google is an 11 step guide on how to handle being in love with two people at the same time. Kyle groaned and read through his fingers. Dear god, there were drawings. Kyle went down the list and the problem was, most of the suggestions had already happened.
Choose one person to be mentally committed to: that was Stan, he supposed.
Choose one person to be platonic with: Cartman.
Choose to then distance that platonic person from you to see if it really was just a crush, someone you lust over or more: well, Cartman had done that for him.
They didn’t see each other much the first month. Cartman was apparently hanging with Kenny in his single a lot, which Kenny would say anytime they’d see each other either at a frat related thing or just hanging at the diner near campus.
“How’s he doing?” Kyle had asked quietly one night as they were exiting the diner, Stan already a few steps ahead.
Kenny peered at him with a pointed look. “Okay. Ask him yourself.”
Kyle shook his head, clearing his throat. “Giving him, uh, space.”
They saw each other in sociology class, of course, but Cartman didn’t try to actively engage him after Kyle would undoubtedly answer a question and it – sucked. And they didn’t walk together after but that was probably because Kyle was always meeting Stan now.
Kenny laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Little hint: he doesn’t want it.”
Stan was at the car doors now and Kyle slowed his step. “Oh, uh.”
Kenny squeezed his shoulder and leaned in toward his ear. “Another little hint: you didn’t break up, dude. Stop treating him like an ex.”
Kenny bounded over to Stan then and left Kyle staring after him, feet feeling too heavy to move.
Why had it felt like that, then?
After that, Kyle took Kenny’s advice. He started texting Cartman again, started playing Call of Duty with him from his own dorm room and yelling at him over the comm. He still hadn’t been back in Cartman’s room but they were at least yelling at one another in class again. It felt – normal. Right. It felt better than fucking good and the other night, when he wasn’t sexiling Stan’s or his own roommate and instead went to bed alone, he'd reached down and palmed his dick and thought of Cartman’s mouth – the way he kissed, the way he sucked his dick like Kyle was the greatest thing he’d ever tasted, the way he greedily swallowed while Stan spit.
Kyle gasped and shook and moaned when he came and then he curled in on himself and wanted to die.
He looked at the webpage again, still stuck on the part about it being a crush or lust or more. God, there was definitely lust. And he – he liked Cartman. A lot. He’d honest to goodness missed him, like a part of him had been cut out.
“Shit,” Kyle moaned, dropping his head in his hands.
Kyle idly wondered what Cartman was up to right now. He looked at the time. Trivia night was starting up in a few at the Commons.
Kyle grab his coat, hat, and scarf and made his way there. Snow was already beginning to fall a lot, even though it was only mid-November, and tonight there was already a light dusting. Denver fucking sucked, but at least it wasn’t South Park.
Kyle took his hat off as he entered and made his way to the rec room. When he entered his heart leapt as he saw Cartman sitting on one of the couches, drinking a Pepsi. Kyle bit his lip. He didn’t know if he should go sit in the empty spot by him or just park it off to the side.
His choice was decided for him when Cartman chose that moment to look around the room, his gaze widening a fraction as it settled on Kyle.
After a pause he lifted his drink and titled it in an offer to come sit.
Kyle went and put a little distance between them. “Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey. Gonna kick your ass tonight.”
Kyle let out a slow breath. “You wish,” he grinned and then they were off.
________________
It was fun, easy, and relaxed. They mocked the shit outta one another and yelled and laughed and Kyle was so fucking thankful for the lack of tension as they headed out into the brisk Colorado air.
Cartman pulled his coat a little tighter around the collar and rubbed his hands together.
“Temperature dropped,” Kyle said as they glanced up at the sky.
“Gee, thanks, weather man,” Cartman replied snarkily.
“Fuck off,” Kyle said without heat, grinning.
He watched Cartman pull something out of his pocket and then tap on the box. “You mind?” he asked, holding up the cigarette between his thumb and index finger.
“Just blow it in the other direction,” Kyle grumbled.
“That’s what she said.”
Kyle snorted. “Dude, that makes no sense.”
Cartman shrugged. “Eh, it’s the thought that counts.”
Kyle smirked and they started walking. “Thought you quit last year,” Kyle said conversationally.
A glance out of his peripheral revealed Cartman’s slight shrug. “Picked it up again recently.”
Kyle put his hands inside his coat and didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to know if everything – with them, was some sort of catalyst.
“Marsh doing frat shit with Kenny?” Cartman asked, and Kyle wasn’t sure if he was happy he was so on point or pissed.
“Yeah.”
Cartman snorted. “Can’t believe McCormick joined a frat.”
“I know, right?”
Cartman took a long drag and Kyle watched the smoke curve in front of them in the coolness of the air. “He’s only doing it for the sorority chicks.”
“And the shitload of beer.”
“And the shitload of beer,” Cartman agreed, grinning.
Kyle grinned back, felt something in his chest clench and then unlock as their eyes met.
Cartman darted his gaze away first and it suddenly felt awkward. Shit.
“Wouldn’t have expected it of Marsh, though,” Cartman said, lightly.
Kyle shrugged. “Stan gets into phases.”
Cartman laughed. “What, like his Goth one?”
“Yeah, sorta. I dunno, he gets like this sometimes. Like he needs to – experience everything the world has to offer or something. Or at least like, different societal groups.”
“God, what a hippie,” Cartman muttered under his breath and it startled a laugh out of Kyle.
“I’ve learned not to question it.”
Cartman was silent for a few moments and so Kyle looked over, took in his creased brow, watched the way his lips pursed together as he took a drag.
“You’re his boyfriend now,” Cartman finally said. “Maybe time to question things.”
Kyle hated to admit how right he was. That he couldn’t just expect their relationship to remain exactly the same, with none of the bumps in the road that couples go through. Hell, it was already fucking happening.
Kyle didn’t respond, just shrugged like it wasn’t something he’d already been thinking about, like it wasn’t the main reason he wasn’t with Stan right now.
“So, uh,” Cartman started, pausing to take another drag before tossing the butt onto the cement. “That project is coming up for Selzner’s class. Do you have a partner yet?”
“No,” Kyle admitted. He’d had a lot of other shit on his mind.
He watched as Cartman dragged a palm across the back of his neck. “Well, you wanna? You’re good at this shit.”
Kyle felt his heart kick up, felt his pulse begin to race. “Yeah, uh. Sure, man.”
“Cool,” Cartman said, starting to walk backwards. “Thanks for seeing me to my dorm like a gentleman,” he grinned toothily before hopping up the steps to the entrance.
Kyle tried not to be disappointed that he wasn’t invited in.
“You have a boyfriend,” he muttered to himself and then headed back to his own room because yeah, him and said boyfriend were currently in a fight, actually.
Kyle hated everything.
____________________
His fight with Stan wasn’t patched up until Sunday night. They spent the entire weekend avoiding each other, Kyle texting Kenny all the shit he should be saying to Stan until he finally went to Stan’s dorm and said it all to him. And even then, it didn’t feel settled because Stan didn’t seem to really get it, didn’t get that Kyle didn’t want to just tag around with his shit.
They had pretty good make-up sex, which was at least more intense than things normally are between them.
“Maybe we should get into fights more often,” Stan breathed out, curved around Kyle’s back, breath warm against his neck.
The words were soft, teasing, but they made Kyle go cold. Because they were validation that things weren’t always that heated with them, and worse, they made him think about his fiery friendship with Cartman, which transcended into the bedroom seamlessly.
Kyle and Stan have rarely fought since high school started. They sort of had all their petty arguments as adolescents. And they still liked a lot of the same shit but also had their own separate interests as well. Kyle supposed this frat thing really was gonna be a new Stan ‘thing’ but he hated how all-consumed Stan would get with shit, especially since they just got together.
That week marked the first time he was back in Cartman’s room since that infamous last time. They needed to start working on their project and it was quieter there seeing that he had the single. And there was more room, too. Kyle spread a bunch of books down on the floor and started drawing out some graphs.
“Why are you doing that? We’re just gonna PowerPoint this shit anyway.”
“I like textual things,” Kyle replied absently, focusing on the pie chart he was drawing. When he looked up he found Cartman staring at him.
“Do I have Dorito cheese on my face?” Kyle asked, wiping at it absently.
Cartman seemed to shake himself visibly and looked away. “Nah, you look pretty as ever, Jew.”
Kyle’s skin prickled a little, heat settling in his belly. He sat back against the edge of the bed, taking a break.
Cartman passed him a Coke, even though he knew Cartman hated Coke.
“You didn’t have to buy it for me,” Kyle said lamely.
He felt Cartman stiffen beside him, their shoulders brushing together. “Who said I did?”
“Okay,” Kyle replied skeptically.
“Kenny drinks it!”
“Kenny drinks beer, beer, and wait for it, more beer.”
“Yeah, well, I got that too, but figured you’d frown upon it while we’re working.”
Kyle snorted. “You’d be right.”
He was starting to become hyperaware of every spot him and Cartman were touching when his phone buzzed.
diner for dinner? My treat babe
Kyle felt a mix of fondness and disappointment. He wanted to see Stan but he’d also told him he was busy tonight.
with cartman studying remember?
Cartman was flipping through the books now, and he looked back at Kyle when his phone buzzed again. “You slackin, Jewboy?”
you never said it was cartman
Jesus Christ, Kyle thought to himself and began typing furiously.
yes, I did. You were too busy blowing me at the time. I gotta go stan
He tossed his phone to the side.
“Trouble in paradise?” Cartman grinned innocently.
“Shut up, we have work to do.”
_______________________
Kyle had barely seen Stan all week. He supposed they were fighting again, this time about the Cartman thing. It wasn’t helping matters that that was where Kyle had been spending all his time this week, but, hell, Stan had promised he wouldn’t do the jealous shit. And besides, he’d been doing his frat shit every night. At least Kyle’s stuff was actually school related.
They’d made a lot of progress on everything, and while they argued about a lot of parts of the presentation, they still ended up coming to an agreement in the end.
“Maybe we’ve matured,” Kyle said on Friday night, when they were finally finished, raising his beer up in celebration.
“I highly doubt that,” Cartman said loftily. “But thank fuck, now we can drink.”
Kyle laughed and slumped back against the bed, his ass starting to fall asleep on the floor.
“We might be able to make trivia,” Kyle said, peering over at the alarm clock on Cartman’s nightstand.
“Eh, that’d require moving,” Cartman groaned and threw his arm over the bed above Kyle, which left his fingers inches from hair.
Kyle swallowed around nothing and then gulped down some beer.
“Put something on,” Kyle said, nudging Cartman’s thigh with his own.
“You’re lucky the remote is close by. I’m tired, you’re a slave driver.”
“Quit bitching and play something,” Kyle snapped and then yelped when Cartman pulled a strand of his hair.
“’S what you get,” he murmured contently. Except now his arm had fallen around Kyle’s shoulders, after Kyle had jerked forward.
Instead of asking him to move, Kyle just leaned back against him, not really sure what he was doing. He felt Cartman stiffen beside him and then his hand squeeze his shoulder once, rhythmically while he scrolled through Netflix for something to play. He settled on Super Troopers, which was fine by Kyle.
They watched, laughed, all the while sitting there like this was some date, like it was totally ordinary for Cartman to have his arm around Kyle, his thumb brushing over his shoulder blade absently through the cotton of his shirt.
They didn’t say one word to one another; the only sound was their breathing and their occasional laughter. The air began to feel weighted and heavy, thick with tension that was swirling around them, like it was blatantly obvious what they were both thinking about right now, zeroed in on the sensation of one another’s bodies.
Kyle wasn’t sure how it happened, couldn’t pinpoint the exact trajectory. He’s pretty sure Cartman started laughing, breath warm against the side of his face, listing a little toward him, and that his lips caught on Kyle’s ear. And from there it was like a dam breaking: the slow drag of Cartman’s beer-slick lips sliding down his neck, Kyle’s head tilting back and his eyes falling shut, their breathing as loud as a the pounding of their hearts. And when Cartman turned Kyle's head toward his with a press of fingertips to chin, Kyle just went, groaning into Cartman's mouth as they kissed, wet and desperate, tongues darting out to brush together before sliding into one another’s mouths, so fucking hot and slick.
Cartman pushed the empty pizza box away with a strong hand and moaned as he laid Kyle down on the carpeting, climbing on top of him and getting a large thigh between his. He tasted of beer and cigarettes and that spicy flavor that’s all him and jesus fuck, Kyle wanted to fucking destroy him.
“Oh, god,” Cartman groaned, kissing down Kyle’s jaw, over his throat, down his neck. “God, the shit I wanna do to you.” He began sucking on Kyle’s neck so hard that he had to push him away because, oh fuck, hickeys.
“We, oh fuck, we can’t,” Kyle gasped, even as his hands roamed up and down Cartman’s back and down his ass, squeezing.
Cartman jerked against him and Kyle could feel how hard he was, his erection thick and warm against the crease of his thigh. Kyle was just as fucking hard and he wanted nothing more than to get Cartman naked, fucking rub all up on his body. Oh god, he had to--
“Motherfuck, just tell me you want this,” Cartman said, body heavy on him as he’d stopped moving as soon as Kyle said ‘we can’t,’ his breath against Kyle’s neck making him shiver.
Kyle took a shuddering breath and dug his nails into Cartman’s upper back. “I do, Jesus Christ, what do you think.”
Cartman pulled back, bracing himself on one hand against the carpeting, so he could look Kyle right in the eye. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
Kyle held his gaze and his own breath as well. Cartman was still hard and pressed up against him and god, he wanted that friction, but—
“I just know I want you so fucking bad I can’t even see straight.”
Kyle feels his breathing hitch. “Cartman. I. Fuck, I just,” he dragged his hand through his hair, his eyes glassy with want still. “I don’t know what the fuck is even happening, okay? I mean, I’ve loved Stan forever, you fucking know that.”
Kyle watched the muscle in Cartman’s jaw twitch as he looked somewhere over Kyle’s head. “Are you in love with him or do you just love him?”
Kyle felt something snap inside him and he pushed Cartman back so he could sit up against the edge of the bed, Cartman settled over his thighs. “Fuck off,” Kyle said, pushing at Cartman’s chest. “Just. Fuck you, man. Stop trying to like, sway my fucking opinion or viewpoint or something. I can’t--” He pulled at his hair again, sure that it’s sticking everywhere now, and slammed his hand down against the carpet, meeting Cartman’s eyes. “You manipulate things, people. That’s all you fucking do and you’re trying to do it here. With your fucking – with your fucking fantasy vs. reality bullshit.”
Kyle’s cheeks were on fire now and he forced himself to take a deep breath. Cartman, however, looked perfectly calm. Even more so, he looked deadly serious.
“That’s not what I’m doing here. I haven’t done that with you in a while. Ask Kenny. Hell, ask fucking Stan. I’m serious about this. About you. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true. I’ve fucking wanted you for years. And yes, that was asking me to go ‘out’ out with you two months ago. As in more than dates. As in your fucking boyfriend.”
Kyle’s eyes widened a fraction and he clenched his own hands in fists. “Why the fuck didn’t you say all of that when we were in your room?”
“Oh please, you fucking knew, Kyle. Don’t act like you didn’t know exactly what that was. You knew when we were standing in the middle of fucking campus.”
“I—yeah, I knew, but I didn’t know how—how long.”
Cartman smirked but it was a mean twist of his lips. “Gotta have some secrets, eh?”
Kyle sighed and closed his eyes, wiping at his still kiss-slick lips. “You should’ve—said more. That day in your room.”
“No,” Cartman replied, voice hard. When Kyle opened his eyes he saw the anger flashing in Cartman’s own. “Fuck that, Jew, you’d already made up your fucking mind. This needed to be your decision. And fuckin’ A, maybe you thought you’d made one already but obviously not. So you need to fucking make another.”
Kyle looked at him, tried to read his expression and couldn’t. “I gotta. I can’t do this. I gotta go.”
Cartman nodded once, face twisting and moved to let Kyle up before flopping back onto his bed and throwing a hand over his face.
Kyle felt déjà vu as he stood at the door and called Cartman’s name.
“Yeah?”
“You knew though, didn’t you. You knew I might… that with Stan, that maybe it was more a fantasy. That maybe I--” should be with you, Kyle added silently, unable to voice that. It’d make it too real, too palpable.
Cartman dropped his hand from his face and met Kyle’s gaze levelly. “I didn’t know, I’m not some fucking psychic. I… I hoped, Kyle.” He added the last part so fucking soft that Kyle never would’ve thought it could’ve come from Cartman. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“I gotta go,” he repeated and opened the door.
_______________________
Kyle felt like he was gonna puke as he stood in front of Stan, in Stan’s room, his roommate thankfully gone for the weekend.
He’d waited an hour before Stan had finally gotten back and he smelled heavily of beer.
“Are you sure you aren’t too drunk for this?” Kyle repeated as he paced while Stan sat back on the bed, hands folded on his legs.
“You sound like someone fucking died so yeah, no, I don’t think I’m too drunk for this. I might need to be drunker.”
Stan already sounded miserable, and fuck. Just, fuck.
“I made out with Cartman tonight.”
Stan barely flinched, just sat back further and nodded dully up at Kyle. “Yeah, well, you were with him all fucking week.”
“That doesn’t mean I had to make out with him,” Kyle said incredulously, finding himself playing Devil’s Advocate here.
“Doesn’t it?” Stan replied, snidely, meanly.
Kyle’s stomach felt like a brick. “I’m sorry, Stan.”
Stan nodded again, but sat forward this time, fists now clenched. “What I don’t—yeah, no, what I don’t fucking get, Kyle, is why the fuck didn’t you tell me weeks ago. Why did you start this shit with me if you had feelings for him.”
“Stan, I didn’t--”
“No, no,” Stan yelled, standing now, the two of them squaring off in the center of the room. “I fucking told you, I told you I would’ve stepped aside. I fucking almost expected to have to.”
“I didn’t fucking realize it, okay?! I didn’t—I didn’t realize the feelings were… there.”
Stan rolled his eyes. “Nice going, asshole. I fucking broke up with Wendy for you.”
Kyle flinched as if Stan just delivered a physical blow. He might as well have. Kyle looked at him, calmer than he felt, and said, “Dude. You broke up with Wendy for you.”
Stan opened his mouth, eyes a little wide, but Kyle continued on. “Because you couldn’t handle your own guilt. Because you kissed me because you were drunk or lonely or whatever and you tried to project everything else onto that.”
“Fuck that, Kyle, that’s not—“
Kyle sighed, suddenly feeling defeated. “It is though, Stan. I don’t know why it happened or whatever. I know you were feeling some – strong feelings for me, with how much we’d been hanging out since starting college but – I don’t think I was ever it for you, man. I think you just – hoped I was. Because I was easier than a long distance relationship. Maybe easier than anything.”
Kyle took a deep, steading breath. “I was your sure thing, Stan, until I almost wasn’t. And then, what, we get together and suddenly it’s like, hey, got Kyle locked down now, might as well do all my frat shit, do what I wanna do, drag him along.”
It was all becoming clearer to Kyle now, in his head.
“I—I didn’t. That’s not what I thought, Kyle. I mean, I didn’t—plan any of that, anyway.”
“Not consciously,” Kyle provided.
Stan rolled his eyes but he also let out a genuine smirk, the first since this whole fight started. “Gonna psychoanalyze me again, huh?”
Kyle smirked back but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Look, I. My point is, you shouldn’t have broken up with Wendy for me. You should’ve broken up with Wendy because it was what you wanted to do. Not what you felt was the right thing to do. And you shouldn’t suddenly be like – regretting it now or something, just because you and I are--”
He couldn’t say ‘breaking up’. Not yet.
“I mean, that’s disrespectful to her, Stan. And frankly, to me.”
Stan dropped his head and nodded, looking at his feet. “You’re uh. You’re right. You’re usually fucking right, Kyle.”
“I’m not always right,” Kyle replied miserably, meeting Stan’s gaze. “I’m so fucking sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean for it to happen and it—it didn’t get far. I swear.”
Stan nodded. “Yeah, well. You. You seem to be, uh, wanting him.”
Kyle sighed and moved to the bed, waiting for Stan to sit beside him. He put his head in his hands as he began to talk.
“Dude, I just. I always thought I knew what I wanted, you know? It was you, Stan. Shit, it was always you. But maybe he was right. It was the dream vs. the reality. Maybe you and I were just – never meant for that, dude. I mean shit, Stan, you’re not even all that gay. If you and I were gonna start something, it should’ve been when we were like 14 or 15 and horny as hell and experimenting or something.”
Stan laughed and put his hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Yeah, uh. Maybe. I mean, I liked being with you, Kyle, and that first time was hot as fuck but like, I feel like the sex, particularly the uh, anal, was some sort of novelty for me to like, try or whatever and then I wasn’t – all that crazy about keeping it up? Which, jeez, isn’t fair to you. God, I’m an asshole.”
Kyle shook his head. “You’re a passive asshole, Stan, there’s a difference.”
Stan punched his shoulder and they both grinned, but sobered quickly. “I uh. But yeah, shit, I dunno, Kyle. I guess I mistook what kinda love I feel for you. Or something. I—god, I love you more than anyone, okay. I wasn’t fucking shitting you about that. But maybe that’s just. Not enough.”
Kyle nodded, swallowing hard. “Maybe it just – wasn’t meant to be our dynamic? Super Bests. That’s us, right?”
Stan smiled, soft and a little sad. “Super Bests,” he agreed, taking Kyle’s hand in his own and stroking the back of his palm.
They sat in silence for a few moments, Kyle breathing around the adrenaline still coursing through his veins before Stan became to speak.
“You know, after graduation Butters told me something. He said that Cartman went to San Francisco to rescue you from the Smug that time when we were kids. And Cartman promised him not to tell. So like, I asked him why he was telling me this now and he just looked over to where you and Cartman were standing by the chips, arguing because Cartman was double dipping and said, 'just in case'.”
Kyle sat stunned, stomach flipping. He couldn’t believe it. That Cartman had…
Stan squeezed his hand. “And, you know, I never really forgot that. I always saw the way he looked at you, Kyle. I sort of don’t know how you didn’t. But I thought to myself, hey, if he really wanted you to change your opinion of him, once and for all, he would’ve told you that, right? But… well, you started doing that on your own once we hit college. So maybe he was waiting for that. For you to do it on your own terms. And I guess really what it comes down to is who would do more to win you, Kyle. I’d write a song for you but Cartman – Cartman would fucking cross state lines.”
Kyle’s mouth was formed in an ‘O’ by the time Stan was done and he was trembling a little. He did the only thing he could think of and turned into Stan’s arms, hugging him tight.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, voice a little wet.
“Fuckin’ trippy, right?” Stan replied thickly.
“Thanks,” Kyle murmured as they pulled back.
“Yeah, well,” Stan replied, wiping discreetly under his nose. “Guess I owed him one, right?”
Kyle smiled and squeezed his hand once more. “Yeah. Guess so.”
Stan squeezed back before letting go.
“We gonna be okay?” Kyle asked, voice tentative.
Stan met his eyes. “Might take a little bit, but. Yeah. Yeah, Kyle. We’re always gonna fucking be okay.”
___________________
Kyle stood in the hallway, palms sweating. He shouldn’t be so fucking nervous. There was nothing to be nervous about, was there? He’d given himself the weekend. Just to – to make sure he wasn’t being hasty and that he shouldn’t just 90210 this motherfucker, choose neither, choose himself, but what the fuck ever. Screw that.
He raised his hand and knocked on the door.
Cartman opened it.
“Jew,” he nodded, raising his eyebrows.
Kyle dug his nails into his palms and took a breath.
[end]