See Roxana. See The Mold. See Roxana rape, break, and cause The Mold internal bleeding in several places.

I think traditional stories are awesome, and classic pairings are beautiful – for obvious reasons!

But a new idea here and there is spiiiicy. I love stuff like that 'cuz it lets me take an unbiased view on characters. No predetermination, baby! I'm bored, and I'm starting to be turned on to the interesting world of threesomes! This pairing...er, couple...er wait – no – uh, 'SHIP? ...Threesome...was something I thought would be fun to try when I was considering the clashing nature of CartmanKyle and KyleStan fics.

Disclaimed.

Noticing
Some things he'd never notice until it was impossible not to. CartmanKyleStan

Noticing

It was hope that kept him from noticing the decline of passion.

He hadn't noticed, really, the way that Eric's remarks and goads had turned half-hearted over time. How, every time their eyes accidentally met, the flame of hatred was now something more like smoldering dislike. He hadn't noticed, above all, how their encounters, which had always been like tempers clashing to climax point, had become more of a ritual which Eric was hurrying to get over with so that he might get back to doing something else.

It might have been denial that kept him from noticing when he was no longer Eric Cartman's priority.

It was obvious, really, what Eric's priority had become, but he wasn't able to comprehend it. He had gotten so used to being the one on the end of Eric's hatred. That passion, he'd always figured, would be reserved only for him, even in the case that he didn't feel that same angry fire for Eric – which he did. To him, his and Eric's dedication to hating each other had been passion. 'Opposites attract' had never been truer.

Maybe it had been because he hated Eric that he didn't want him to be happy. Maybe if he'd thought about it further he'd have noticed he didn't want Eric to be happy – without him.

It had been difficult to deny, however, after the Thursday afternoon he'd mistakenly stepped into the school bookroom and silently watched as Eric shoved his tongue into Stan's mouth and Stan held Eric's arms, completely willing. Yes, it was no longer possible to not notice that Eric had a different passion now.

He wasn't one to cry over loss, though he thought a lot about it. He hadn't said anything to them; he let them continue to believe their relations were a secret. Usually he didn't think about it, and the loss of his passion with Eric eventually slipped his mind altogether.

He didn't notice that he wasn't happy.

That spring, Eric's mother had married to a retired military general. That summer, Eric's stepfather had forcibly sent him to a summer camp specially directed toward the overweight.

It was after two months of humid mornings in the arcade, lazy afternoons on the porch, cool evenings in the movie theatre, and days scattered here and there of camping out by Stark's Pond with Stan and Kenny (while Eric was gone at camp) that something happened.

It was fear that kept him from noticing the beginning of love.

He hadn't noticed, really, the way that Stan's smile seemed far prettier than any girl's curves, and the way Stan's breathy, unique laughter was sweeter than any girl's perfume. He hadn't really noticed the isolated feeling he got whenever Stan spoke of Eric with that secretive, lovestruck look in his eyes; he hadn't noticed the way everything had stopped for the five seconds in which he'd been convinced the asthma attack had killed his best friend, only to see Stan's chest shudder with a weak cough two seconds later.

It might have been denial that kept him from noticing he cared about and loved Stan Marsh as more than a best friend.

It was difficult to realize how obviously in love Stan was with Eric, even in the brunet's absence. He himself had just gotten too used to being Stan's one-and-only, even if only platonically. He'd figured that the affection would only be reserved for him and not Eric, even in the case that he eventually found a better super-best-friend than Stan – which he didn't. To him, his and Stan's dedication to helping each other had been love. It was a truth that the best relationships always started out as long-term friendships.

Maybe it had been because he loved Stan that he didn't enjoy seeing his sadness. Maybe if he'd thought about it further he'd have noticed he didn't enjoy seeing Stan's sadness – over the absence of someone else.

It had been difficult to deny, however, after the camping trip by Stark's Pond when he'd mistakenly placed his hand too close to Stan and Stan had given him a knowing smile and began to press tiny kisses to his jaw and neck, which he was all too willing to be subjected to. Yes, it was no longer possible not to notice that he felt something for his best friend.

He wasn't one to condone cheating, though he thought a lot about it. He hadn't let Stan continue the fling beyond the moment Kenny had returned to the campsite; he let it go on the notion of Stan being bored or horny, and he declared that he knew of Stan and Eric's secret, so that Stan wouldn't bother him again. Usually he tried not to think about it and he willed his love for Stan to eventually slip his mind altogether.

He didn't notice that he still wasn't happy.

That autumn, Eric had returned to South Park, noticeably slimmer. In the same autumn, Eric and Stan had made their relationship public knowledge, though not without a considerable amount of Eric's threatening anyone who dared to question his masculinity (sometimes adding that his boyfriend's didn't matter, as Stan's masculinity had been beyond questionable even in his heterosexual years.)

It was after three weeks of awkward lunch periods, lonely afternoons, and friendless evenings alone in bed without Stan or Eric ever around that something happened.

After two painful and indirect rejections, it was cynicism that kept him from noticing that he hadn't been as rejected as he thought.

He hadn't noticed, really, the way Stan's eyes would linger on him all the time and how, seeing Stan's obvious feelings for his best friend, Eric's own eyes would burn in almost uncontrollable delight. He hadn't really noticed the strange sense of tension that struck him – how, every time Eric's playful and hotheaded remarks about his religious background (retaliation for the no-longer-quite-applicable weight insults) brought forth a rage and fierce hatred that he hadn't felt for what felt like ages, Stan would smile a little and watch, mesmerized, as his best friend and boyfriend fought with a passion he knew he could never imitate but adored nonetheless.

It might have been that fear of rejection and loss of optimism that kept him from noticing that Eric and Stan were interested in him much the same way he was respectively interested in them.

It was difficult to get him to realize how obviously he needed them. He'd just gotten too used to being the third wheel. He'd figured that they only took him along on their dates because, what with the existence of Kenny's constant girlfriends, Stan had convinced Eric it would be bad to leave his best friend without anyone around, even in the case that he had made some other friends or gotten a girlfriend of his own – which he hadn't. To him, their interest in him was merely pity. It was a truth that best friends wouldn't forget about you because they cared, and that worst enemies wouldn't forget about you because they didn't want to let you off that easy.

Maybe it had been because Eric's passion to antagonize him had returned, evenly matched by Eric's own feelings for Stan, that he began to notice. Maybe it had been because Stan's dedication to loving and caring about his best friend was stronger than ever, evenly matched by Stan's own feelings for Eric, that he began to notice.

It had been absolutely impossible to deny it, however, when, after school, he went to meet Stan in the bookroom and was promptly trapped from behind in Eric's crushing, wild-spirited embrace; an action so startling that he felt neither willing nor unwilling. Stan had come over as he struggled and asked him not to do so any longer; that it was no longer possible for him not to notice that he wanted Stan and Eric as much as Stan and Eric wanted him.

He wasn't one to believe such farfetched declarations, though he thought a lot about it and, by the time the two were done – having convinced him with wandering lips and tongues, the strokes of slicked fingers; Stan's persuasive moans of love and Eric's powerful promises of passion – he realized that it was in all of their best interests to pursue the idea. Usually he tried to be logical, and this made so much sense to him that the cynicism was alleviated, leaving him hoping not to let his passion for Eric nor his love for Stan ever slip his mind again.

Intelligent but oblivious, he kept up his part in the strange relationship, finding his way to Stan if he felt romantic and to Eric if he felt sexual and violent.

At first, it wasn't much more than a convenient lifestyle (and a shocker to everyone except the sexually open-minded Kenny,) but it became the most satisfying lifestyle the three of them had known, and contentedness went along with convenience.

Contentedness then grew to something more. Deep down, he knew that, with the three of them tangled in this inexplicable web of love, hate, passion, sex – with that inconsistent chemistry kept stable by their mutual feelings of dedication – he was finally happy.

Admittedly, Kyle didn't notice it for months, but that was nothing more than force of habit.

-end-

P-p-please review ;.; I know it's not a favourable couple...er, pairing – no – er - ...THREESOME, but you know, I worked hard on it!

Thanks for reading...sure, the idea of these three is hard to grasp...but I still enjoyed imagining how it could happen.

ALSO. I made a piano video (one minute long, just a practice run of the beginning of a cool piece, so check it out?) and also a short video clip dedicated to FFnet authors I admire. Links in profile, so check them out, k? Sorry my speaking voice is icky :x

Again, reviews will be loved forever. :D