For my displeasure, Kyle went the weekend away, but was back on Monday. The idea that Mr. Dickhead had my Jew the whole weekend made my insides flip over. The thought of Kyle being touched and jerked by somebody else made me sick. Especially if that somebody is at least 40 years older than him.

I struggled with myself on Monday. The urge to go to Ganymedes Nest was growing day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. I cannot follow myself anymore. It's like I'm becoming addicted to Kyle. My mind is full of Kyle. I fall asleep thinking about him, I wake up thinking about him. My concentration level in classes is even lower than usual and I really have to focus strongly in my essays. And about the Macdonnald's shit, I'm already figuring out how to build my way to become one of the main managers of it. It's a very calculated plan to liquidate the current manager and to have influence in all Macs of Chicago. My plan is going on smoothly. Some suggesting photos will be my finishing touch. Ah, I'm such a genius.

And all this so I have more money to spend in Kyle. Shit! What's the matter with me? He must have used some hidden Jewish messed up powers on me. I'm starting to think he bewitched me. Me and all those old faggy guys.

And so I end up going to the club on Monday evening. I arrive quite early in the hope of having Kyle a couple hours for myself. I see him half laying on a couch and looks half asleep.

"Kalh?" I see him almost jump and he hastily turns around to see who it is. He's a bit pale and looks tired.

"Cartman? We aren't even open yet!"

"I know, but the guy by the reception didn't mind."

"You tipped him, right."

"Yeah, 10 dollars, the fucker." Kyle stares a moment a bit amused.

"You never come on Mondays."

"Not happy to see me?" I witness Kyle's lips draw a larger smile as he giggles a bit. He then shifts on the couch so his arms are resting on the couch now.

"I'm just surprised to see you, that's all. You've been coming more often."

"I'm planning to come more often, too."

"Really? Careful with your money." He says a bit mockingly, but somehow I have the feeling he means it too.

"I have a good job and am building my way to success. It's only a matter of time and I'll be an important manager-advisor of MacDonnals." Kyle bows his head slightly to the side and smiles softly.

"Naturally." He keeps the smile on his lips and his eyes rest on mine.

"You look tired."

"Thank you." He giggles. "I arrived yesterday at 3 a.m. and had school early. I barely slept."

"Don't they give you free time?" No response. I see his lips remain a smile, but a tense one. I guess the answer is no. "Still have time for me?"

"Only between 10 and 11 o'clock. I have a shift in the lounge after that." He tiredly says.

"Maybe you can sleep a bit before your client comes." I invite him to lay his head on my lap. He hesitates for a couple seconds and then lies down. He closes his eyes while I stroke his curly hair away from his face. He smiles lazily and after a short while I'm positive he's sleeping. The feeling of having him so close to me, the fact that he's letting his guard down and trusts me to sleep on my lap somehow makes my heart bang harder. I don't understand why he makes me feel like this. I'm actually feeling quite…cozy and…happy now. I wish he's stupid date wouldn't come. I want to keep him for myself, I want to play with his soft curls while he sleeps so peacefully on top of me. But only half an hour later a guy in his 50's, wearing large glasses, with neat hair combed to the side came in. He stares at me and Kyle a bit unsure.

"G-g-good even-ng-ging." I suppress my laughter as the guy stutters.

"Good evening." I hardly hide my amusement in my voice. He looks at Kyle and I annoyingly understand that he's the date. Yet I remain silent.

"I-I-I have to t-t-t-aaaah-talk to Kyle." He embarrassedly says.

"But he's sleeping." I speak with my most innocent voice I can make.

"Yes, I can s-s-see thaaaah. B-B-But I pay-ie-d t-t-t-to be with him." I look irritated at him. He stares back nervously but also insistently at me for a while and then gently pats on Kyle's shoulder. Kyle shuddered quickly and opened his eyes in fright. I sigh heavily and give a "happy now?" look at the large glassed stutter douche.

"Oh, hi Frank. Is it already 8?" Kyle tiredly lifts up, scratching his forehead.

"Q-Q-Q-Quart over 8. I waaaaahs late."

"It's ok. I'll make up for the lost time." He seductively speaks. I hate the way Kyle smiles temptingly to this old turd. He guides the man and looks at me one last time before leaving the lounge. I feel my eyes widen as I read, in that very short glimpse not only tiredness but a hint of sadness. For only one second I would swear Kyle's eyes screamed out misery. I feel my stomach sink, I pull my knees to my chin and decide to stay on the couch all alone.

I sit in the lounge and as each minute passes by, I feel more and more nauseous. Sick images of Kyle doing it with the stutter fag makes me want to throw up. I try focus my attention on the exotic dancer 's movements in an attempt of distracting myself, a vain effort of taking those filthy images of my head. I look around and see guys coming and going. Hustlers entertaining their clients, laughing with them, caressing them, kissing them. I sigh and look at the watch for the hundredth time. Soon he'll be back and I'll reclaim him. And indeed, around 10 o'clock Kyle returns to the lounge. I notice he looks paler and even more tired than earlier. I feel really pissed off and suddenly have the urge to take him away from this place. I hastily walk towards him and grab his arm before he has the chance to meet his fucked up friends. I drag him out the bar.

"Cartman, what the hell are you doing?" I turn around to face him.

"Do you have an appointment now?"

"What?"

"Do you have to escort or fuck somebody?"

"No, but I have to stay in the lounge."

"No way, you're coming with me."

"Cartman, what the hell?"

We reach the reception. The guy behind the desk looks a bit amazed at us.

"Can I help you?" He asks me, but his look is directed to my hand gripping Kyle's arm.

"I want to have him escorting me the rest of the night."

"I don't know if that's possible, sir." He worriedly looks at Kyle.

"It's ok, he's my client." Kyle assures his colleague. "I have the lounge shift, so technically I'm free." I look at Kyle a bit surprised and see the guy behind the desk give a small suspicious look but ends up typing something in the computer. He tells me how much I have to pay to have Kyle the rest of the night and I pay with my credit card. In no time we are walking in the dark streets of Chicago.

"Where are we going?" Kyle asks.

"To my room."

"Really?" I give him no answer and lift my arm calling a taxi. "Can I have my arm back? I think it's loosing the feeling." I realize that I was still grabbing his arm and quickly release it. "Thanks." He says as he rubs a bit his arm.

A taxicab stops and we enter. After a short ride we arrive in the residential area. I lead Kyle through the corridors with students waling here and there, sounds of music and tv sets fill the place. I open my door and I groan the moment I see that shitty butthole of a James.

"YOU!" James turns around and looks stunned at me. "Out, get out!" I violently grab hold of him and force the nerd jerk out of the room.

"Hey! You cannot! I'm writing an assignment!"

"Here, take your notebook with you and don't bother to return tonight" I press the computer on him and push him further away. "Kalh, inside!" I command. Kyle looks a bit frightened but obeys me.

I lock the door and ignore James voice complaining and shouting something about this being his room too, bla, bla, bla. Fortunately there is somebody else that dislikes all the noise and shuts his fucking mouth up. I turn around and realize Kyle is standing in the middle of the room, staring confusedly at me.

"You better go to sleep." I say. "You can have prickhead's bed if you like." I catch a glimpse of thankfulness in his eyes. He looks at me only a moment and then lies on top of the bed. I get in my own bed, sigh and close my eyes. After some minutes I sense Kyle shifting on his borrowed bed, hear a couple footsteps and smile as the covers are lifted up. Kyle is lying on top of me now.

"Feel too alone over there?" I ask.

"You roommate's bed smell funny." I burst into laughter. "Besides, you're all nice and big and comfy and warm." I feel him resting his head on my chest and I find myself smiling spontaneously.

"Goodnight Jewboy."

"Night, fatass."

I softly stroke Kyle's back and listen to the rhythmical breathing of the Jew. I smile as my finger find the red curls. I feel my eyes become heavy and surrender myself to sleep.

A/N

Ah, such an adorable scene. This chapter was fun. Like to put Cartman all confused, he still has to learn how to understand his own feeling. LOL

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