Summary: Kyle always knew Cartman was fucked up but this time he crosses a line that Kyle isn't prepared for. This is a sort of sad, one-sided lust story so beware.

Do people even put disclaimers anymore? South Park belongs to Matt &Trey (:

Kyle didn't really know why he'd agreed to this. When the school councillor announced to a small group of his psychology class that she was concerned about one of their peers, Kyle had huffed and rolled his eyes. It wasn't until she asked for a volunteer to aid the school in their efforts to help the guy that a strange feeling of responsibility had washed over him. The rest of the group looked bored or shied away from any possibility that she might pick one of them despite their obvious resentment but Kyle found himself lifting his hand. His mind yelled for him to stop but he couldn't. The other students gave him a look of bewilderment or disgust and, yeah, he was embarrassed but he ignored them.

"Yeah, he's my neighbour, so..."

Now he found himself on his way to said troubled teen's house and he fumed the whole way there.

"Why do you always have to be the fucking martyr?" He kicked at the ground, hands shoved in his pockets as he scolded himself. "Dumbass!"

Considering the darkness that clouded his mind when he thought back to his childhood, this should have made him want to stay far, far away from Eric Cartman's front door, let alone ever pass the threshold of his house. He rang the doorbell, cursing again before righting his demeanour.

When the door opened nostalgia hit him in the stomach, the smell of cookies and perfume making him feel both warm and nauseated. Suddenly he was reminded of why Liane Cartman couldn't be trusted. She had an exterior of sweet gentleness; an inviting allure that made any man giddy and gladly hand over a wad of cash just to be exactly where Kyle was right now… but he didn't really get it and he knew that only a truly bad person could raise someone like Cartman. It was a facade, one that, he at least, had never bought. Even Kenny went through a "Cartman's mom" phase.

She looked mildly surprised to see the seventeen year old on her doorstep and Kyle looked equally as stunned to see how different she looked. It'd been, what? Four, five years since he'd been this close to her? She looked weathered and tired and a little older than Kyle assumed she was. He didn't need to pry to know that Cartman had done this to her. He'd only become more difficult with age.

"Oh, Kyle! What a nice surprise! Are you here to see Eric?" Liane looked extremely excited and for a moment Kyle felt bad for the woman but her face quickly fell into the realisation that their friendship was firmly a former one. "...No, that can't be it."

"A-actually," Kyle faltered and cleared his throat. "I am. I need to, uh..." He trailed off, deciding that the truth wouldn't benefit Cartman. He didn't know why he cared about that, he just knew that he wouldn't want his mom prying into his personal life. Things were best left vague. "… It's homework. We were paired up." He gave a tight smile and looked away. The front he was sporting was just painful.

Liane lit up again, pulling Kyle into the reality that he actually was seconds away from conversing with the one person he wished to least. "Wonderful!" She stepped to the side, beckoning him in and he swallowed uneasily. "Is it Geography because I know my Eric's been struggling?"

"Yeah, sure," Kyle bit back impatiently. Wow, who knew a change in environment could alter his mood so quickly. He just didn't like this. He felt trapped.

"Eric, sweetie!" Liane called, holding onto the bannister of the stairs. "You have a friend to see you!" Kyle wanted to correct her; they would never be friends. Cartman didn't even seem to want to be nowadays anyway. They despised eachother and that's how it was meant to be.

Footsteps traced a part of the house but Kyle cocked an eyebrow when they failed to descend the stairs. Instead they echoed upwards and his eyes darted to the wall that concealed the basement door from his vision. There was something ominous about his arch nemesis ascending from a dark hole that made him all the more wary. What the fuck was he doing here again? His mind went blank and he cursed himself for not letting Stan come with him when he tried to insist.

Kyle braced himself for a harsh insult or two as Cartman's eyes fell on him. He waited, his own expression blank and unwavering, but all he got in return was an equally flat stare. Liane didn't seem to question the silent exchange and sung happily, "would you boys like some lemonade?"

"No thanks, mom," Cartman replied for the both of them, a genuine politeness in his voice that Kyle failed to recognise. He looked tired too but then it wasn't like he'd ever looked healthy. At least he didn't breathe through his mouth anymore. "What are you doing here?" Cartman asked as Liane floated away into the kitchen. Kyle snapped out of his fixed trance realising that he'd just been staring stupidly. Now he didn't know what to say. He'd been so focused on being angry at his own big mouth he hadn't really planned this out. He sighed inwardly, racking his brain for a place to start. "...Kyle?"

"Look, I don't want to be here but they sent me," he began bluntly, aware that that was an extremely vague excuse for his presence.

"They?"

"The school. I'm supposed to offer to help you catch up but I'm not gonna do that. Just… stop skipping classes, alright? They're close to-"

"Shut up," Cartman hissed, interrupting him as he stared frantically at the kitchen door. "We can talk in my room."

Kyle frowned. "No, I'm not staying, I-"

Cartman cut him off again, shuffling back over to the basement door. "C'mon. I want to tell you something."

Kyle followed, his expression softening as his frustration dissipated and curiosity took over his actions. Cartman's room was downstairs? Kyle found that highly amusing. He couldn't help but snicker to himself as he followed. "You live in your mom's basement?" Cartman didn't reply but Kyle could practically hear his ears steaming. His smirk fell as he took in the surroundings of the once dingy and cluttered room. "Wow, you really do."

A double bed was pushed against the wall along with items of furniture Kyle recognised from Cartman's old room. In another corner was a bench with weights and beside that was a literal full-sized refrigerator. A computing setup that Kyle could only dream of was the highlight. He shook his head, trying not to feel jealous and reminded himself that the lack of natural light down here would quickly become draining despite the generous space.

"How the hell did you pay for all this?"

"That's what I wanna tell you. I have a job, dude. I don't need school."

Kyle folded his arms as Cartman made himself comfortable in a very obvious dip in his bed. "Why couldn't you have told me that upstairs?"

"My mom doesn't know," he snapped in response. "She wants me to stay in school."

Kyle shrugged. "Well, maybe you should. Education is precious and..." He trailed off, irritated at himself once again for sounding like he gave a shit about what Cartman did. Besides, he loved not having to see his fat ugly face every day.

"...and you miss me?" Cartman finished for him, a teasing playfulness in his voice that made Kyle recoil and almost shudder.

"NO!"

"Kinda sounded like it, man." Cartman gabbed a magazine he'd tossed onto his bed and began nonchalantly flicking through it although clearly just using it as a convenient prop.

Kyle's fists balled. This wasn't the Cartman he hated, it was the Cartman he wished wouldn't get to him and a part of him had forgotten it existed. He was witty, sometimes too witty for Kyle to keep up with and it made his blood boil with frustration.

"It's okay, Kyle. I missed you too," his cocky voice added, laced with seduction. Kyle backed away, not even wavering on his decision to get the fuck out.

"I don't miss you. Nobody does! The school just sent me because they're too dumb to get your lazy, fat fucking ass to school!"

That struck a nerve and Kyle saw the hurt form on Cartman's face as he let the magazine fall to his lap. How could someone so fragile be the cause of so much hatred? He froze as the idea of running away dissipated. Despite everything, Kyle felt bad for what he'd just said. His mind raced back to times where Cartman had shown promise and how elated he'd been to think that, finally, he'd learned his lesson only for it to be destroyed by his lack of sympathy for other people. He was selfish and heartless and Kyle was enraged to think that he even had the ability to make him question that so many times. Even now.

Kyle was drawn away from thought at the sound of Cartman shifting his weight away from the bed and making his way over to him. He tensed, hoping that physical contact would remain nonexistent between them. He couldn't be held responsible for his reflexes.

"Do you care about me?"

He was torn between backing away again and actually talking this out with him because if he didn't… Well, he'd be the bad guy, right? That's how it'd always seemed to work. It didn't matter what unjust, hurtful things someone threw at him, he was always supposed to be the bigger man. He was supposed to put aside his own feelings and help the poor, troubled baby on the other side of things.

But this was Eric Cartman. He didn't deserve Kyle's strong sense of morality and that alone told him to let Cartman suffer for his own deplorable actions. He'd never learn from his mistakes, Kyle knew that, but refusing to listen to him would at the very least be a mild kick in the stomach. Why? Because he always listened and maybe Cartman had always taken that for granted… but looking at him, Kyle couldn't see any malice behind his impatient stare. He wasn't waiting for Kyle to crack like he usually did. It made him swallow and look away.

"Why are you doing this now?" It was quiet and weak but he had to ask. He knew Cartman was messed up but this was a whole other side to him, the existence of which he'd tried to dismiss as completely impossible.

Cartman huffed and dropped his gaze to the ground, his fists balling. "Why does it matter?" He was seething now but more at himself than at Kyle. "Just answer my question."

"No!" Kyle took a step backwards, seriously considering turning and walking back up the stairs. "You don't get to ask me questions about how I feel. Ever."

Cartman's pained scowl softened slightly but only so he could let out a defeated sigh. "I know you do. I care about you too, Kyle!"

Nausea gripped Kyle's stomach and he backed away yet again, terrified that Cartman could still see through him after all this time, even when he forced himself to be uncomfortably guarded. Cartman approached him a little, cautious but panicked. "Stay back," Kyle ordered before he could say anything and Cartman froze. "...I care about people, and unfortunately for me, you are one."

Cartman suddenly looked hopeful despite Kyle's lack of certainty at his own statement. "...So you do."

Kyle let out a small grunt, hating this raw side of Cartman that only ever came out when he was really passionate about something or downright desperate. That thought alone confused Kyle beyond comprehension. His acceptance had never been important to the self-centered asshole before. "In a way," Kyle admitted, glaring at him. He felt a little calmer knowing that he had the upper hand in the conversation. "I still hate you though." Cartman laughed almost sadistically, striking fear into Kyle once again. He winced.

"No you don't, Kyle!" Cartman approached him once again, a false smile plastered across his face. "Come on, man. We were gonna work out eventually, right? S'why you're here! It's why never gave up on me!"

Kyle could tell that Cartman didn't believe his own words, that he was silently praying for Kyle to agree… but he didn't. Kyle wanted to scream at him, tell him for the millionth time that all he'd ever been trying to do was save Cartman from himself and keep him from growing into the shell of evil hatred he was clearly destined to be. He bit his tongue, instead focusing on the more sickening part of Cartman's question.

"Work out? What do you mean, work out?"

Cartman opened his mouth to reply but hesitated, instead placing his hand on Kyle's shoulder. He was still smiling, looking far more innocent than usual and that made Kyle stiffen awkwardly. What the fuck was happening? He wanted to knock the hunk of meat away from him but he was pretty scared all of a sudden.

"We can put our differences aside now. We're not kids anymore, dude." Cartman gave him an almost bashful look. "We can be how we always wanted to be."

Kyle blinked, genuinely stunned. The majority of his anger had dissipated, leaving behind a numbness laced with disgust. What was he even supposed to say to that? Of course that was never going to happen. He'd never be able to forgive everything that Cartman had ever put him through; the relentless bullying and belittling, the acts of pure cruelty for his own amusement. Right now the guy was so god damned deluded, Kyle didn't have the energy to defend the reasoning behind the way he felt.

"...Okay."

"O-okay?"

Kyle shrugged, simultaneously removing Cartman's firm grip. "Sure, whatever." Cartman grinned, forcing Kyle to double-take his face, his stance growing cautious.

"Guess it's true what they say about sexual tension between enemies, huh?"

Kyle felt the blood drain from him entire body as Cartman continued to smile at him, almost lovingly. He swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic in the windowless room. He found his voice after a few long seconds of silence. He flinched. "Whoa, wait, what?!" He dodged out of Cartman's way, rounding him in order to add more space between them. Cartman turned to face him, a little disappointed at his reaction. Kyle reached up to grip his hair with both hands, pacing a little. "I can't… we haven't even..." Kyle groaned, lowering his arms to flail wildly at him. "That's what you MEANT?!"

"Stop yelling, Kyle!" Cartman replied irritably, frowning as he eyed Kyle's bright red face. "Fucking Christ." Even Cartman looked kind of awkward now, the hopeful glint in his eye once again fading. "...Just tell me this…" He took a step towards him, his voice adopting a melancholy softness. "...If I'd been a better person, would you like me?"

"Look, I only ever judged you for being an asshole!" Kyle huffed, glaring at the floor, annoyed at himself for caving simply because the dick looked so fucking sad. "If you were a good person who knows what could've happened." As soon as the words left Kyle's lips, he knew he was going to regret admitting it. He didn't have time to process anything as Cartman hurried towards him and pinned his spine against the edge of his desk. "Ow, what the-"

Then it happened. His worst nightmare came true. Heavy, desperate lips crashed against his and he didn't hesitate to start pushing him forcefully away, his palms flat on his thick chest as he cringed at how sloppy he was. It was no use; since Cartman had grown to match his height and started lifting weights Kyle was no longer a match for his strength. He had definitely had dreams like this. Dreams where he threw up, where he'd literally killed him, where he'd kissed him back and woke up in a cold sweat with his skin crawling. Maybe this was another one? No. The heat radiating from Cartman's body was too fucking real. Kyle felt sick now, wondering when this was going to end. He kissed back momentarily to try and catch him off guard but nauseated himself even more and swiftly kneed Cartman in the balls. He stumbled back, whining pathetically.

Kyle's chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath, glaring daggers at the injured psychopath. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"I hate you," Cartman spat through a strained rasp.

"So what was that, the kiss of death, you fucking freak?" Kyle wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, disgust clear on his face. Cartman straightened up, frowning with frustration. He tried to take his hand but Kyle quickly pulled it from his reach. "DON'T. Touch me." He grunted, bewildered and moved away back towards the stairs again. "Why do you even want this, Cartman?! You hate everything about me! You used to say it all the goddamn time..."

"I DON'T KNOW!" Cartman cried and Kyle swore he saw tears in his eyes. The look on his face made his breath hitch painfully. "...I don't know, dude."

Kyle's expression adopted a scowl once more at the word "dude". He still used that as though nothing had changed; like they still hung out on a daily basis and had a reputation as "frenemies". He hurried for the stairs, this time refusing to get caught up in whatever Cartman had to say… but it appeared that he was done. He wouldn't turn back to watch him leave and that made Kyle feel weird about walking out without the last word. He needed to put and end to this. Cartman clearly needed closure.

"...Cartman..." He didn't answer and Kyle sighed gently, his heart in his throat. Why of all people did it have to be someone as fucked up and helpless as him? This was the kind of shit that made Kyle care. It wasn't fair! "...Cartman, I'm in love with Stan. Okay? I'm… I'm sorry."

Kyle knew he had nothing to apologise for. He knew that Cartman deserved to be exactly where he was; in a cold basement – bitter and alone. That didn't stop him from having to wipe away stray tears that were freezing onto his cheeks all the way home. How he was going to tell Stan about what had just happened, he had no idea but he knew he'd be angry… angrier than himself and he'd never expected that in a million years.

Kyle's relationship with Cartman had always been a roller coaster of confusion and anger; a train wreck that at the worst of times made him lose his mind and at the very best at least kept him alive. Ever since they'd stopped talking, Kyle had wondered how Cartman really felt. He'd always felt like he was waiting on the edge for something like that to happen but it never did. Now he could move on, knowing that his fears were true but also dealt with. He hoped anyway. Eric Cartman was the epitome of unpredictable and horrifyingly jealous.

As he slammed his door shut and sat shakily on his bed, he reached for his phone, dialling the first number on his speed dial.