What's funny is all of this was finished except for a couple paragraphs for the last like two months. Sorry guys, perhaps more updates soon.

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Stan had sputtered as he was glared at by both the Jew and the Nazi, sitting at the cafeteria as other kids ate breakfast. He had explained everything, the practical prophecy that the two of them would get together, the way that everyone had known since junior high. Kyle had stayed quiet the entire time, blushing furiously. Hadn't he already admitted to himself he had somewhat kind of sort of started to like Cartman? Now this, everyone had known before he had even figured out he was gay. That was unbelievable, because either it was a lucky guess, on everyone's part, or he was extremely stupid.

He wanted to bury himself.

Cartman, on the other hand, took every opportunity to call out how utterly ridiculous this was, remind everyone of how much he hated Jews, and most of all how much he hated this particular Jew. Of course he wasn't in love with Kyle, he didn't even like the twat. Eventually he reduced to mere 'fuck you' and 'this is retarded' remarks. Kenny's mouth was hidden as usual, but Cartman knew he was smiling, smirking more like, and wanted to smack his lips right off him.

All of them, however, had submitted to silence by the time they were in the class. Kyle sat in his normal spot, after all what was new? Nothing. Everything was the same except his knowledge of the people watching him. Cartman sat away from the group, however, and ultimately away from Kyle. The redhead knew this would be hard on the fat boy, after all Cartman really did care what people thought about him, albeit less than he cared about personal gain, and despite the fact that the larger man was delusional when it came to people's opinions anyways.

It was pathetic, however, because now Kyle's thoughts of Cartman, idiotic and pathetic as they already were, had taken a turn. Was this good? Did he actually have a chance with the boy? He sighed slightly and pulled out his notebook and scribbled down notes as he caught them, otherwise just doodling on the side of the page. From the looks of things, no, there was a snowball's chance in hell that Cartman liked him back. No doubt that Cartman was regretting the slight moment they had shared in the alleyway now. He ventured to look at the large boy, whom he had been thinking about but straining not to actually look towards.

Cartman's eyebrows were knitted as he stared straight on, thinking to himself. How dare these idiots think such things about him and Kyle. No, about him. Accusations against him, that's what it was, who cared about Kyle?

Well, okay so he had been maybe a little easier on the boy lately. That didn't mean he cared.

Junior High, huh? Man, rumors lasted long in a small town. It explained a lot but it pissed him off anyways. There was no way that he'd be with a Jew in any more of a way to exploit him and bury his face in the ground. Kyle was there solely for the purpose of entertainment through insult, nothing else. He wasn't important, he was nothing, a bug. Yes a bug... Who was staring at him. Cartman could feel green eyes piercing him lightly, no doubt unaware that they were lingering too long. No wonder people thought something was going on, with those eyes that wouldn't go away.

He was getting pissed, now. Other eyes had saw Kyle or something because they were slowly turning to him. It was that prickling sensation of being watched, the paranoia he already had multiplied. He growled slightly, just enough for the people in his immediate area to look at him, too. Damn.

Without thinking about it, he picked up his eraser, turned and threw it at the Jew. It hit the daydreaming Kyle bulls-eye and he yelped, which got a giggle from the class, before responding. "What the fuck was that for, fat ass?" He accused.

"Stop looking at me with your covetous Jew eyes."

The ginger glared at him. "I can't look anywhere on that side of the room WITHOUT seeing you, you tub of lard, you're huge."

"Shut the fuck up, Kyle, seriously. You're not funny." The Jew scoffed and rolled his eyes, as if to ask if Cartman though that he was himself.

"Excuse me children, are you quite done?" The teacher asked strictly, and the redhead blushed and sat more in his seat. Cartman, however, had another idea and got up and left the room altogether, leaving his stuff entirely.

Kyle, Stan, and Kenny knew that Cartman wouldn't be back today, and Stan leaned over. "You're in charge of giving him his stuff." Kenny nodded.

"Me? Why me?" The redhead whispered back. "I don't want to go within 10 miles of that man."

"We don't care, dude, he's your problem right now."

"Thanks a lot, asshole." With that, Kyle turned to his notes and didn't talk to them for the rest of the period.

The rest of the day went by without incident. This could be accredited to the lack of a certain Nazi. Kenny, Stan, and Kyle were back on talking terms after that particular class and even helped him carry Cartman's stuff to his locker, though assured him that, no, they would not take it to Eric. He sighed and resigned himself to it. Just one more thing to keep his head on something he really wished he hadn't become so attached to. It was pointless and pathetic and ultimately cliche. Most of the day, his head was running around the larger boy, orbiting perhaps, and it made him physically sick what he imagined at times. At one point he even had almost written 'Eric Cartman' on the piece of paper and then thoroughly imagined himself covering it with thing alike Cartman's name, hearts, little XOXO symbols. Blah.

At the bus stop, where he parted from Stan and Kenny, he was almost glad to be away from eyes that he felt could look through his soul. He lugged two backpacks, both extremely heavy because, hey, both of them read - though Kyle's was textbooks and Cartman's was no doubt anti-semantic propaganda. He could feel the snow crush under him more than usual and for a moment wondered how much snow collapsed under his, ew, crush. Yeah, that wording was pretty disgusting. So on the rest of the way he decided what to call his situation of feelings for the fat jerk.

He settled unsatisfied on 'emotional attachment' and 'object of his unwanted affections' as he got to Cartman's house. The car was gone, which meant that Cartman was probably here instead of hiding out after running from school. Not that he wouldn't just come home and cry to his mother and be allowed to stay home anyways. Some things just never change. He rang the doorbell, but no one answered. Figured, Cartman was a lazy bastard. He opened the door. Maybe Cartman wasn't home, in which case he'd just take the bag up to the room and if Cartman was there, he'd give him the bag. If the bastard wasn't there, all the better. He wouldn't have to deal with the cow, and it would thoroughly freak out the Nazi if a Jew stepped an unwatched foot into his room.

As he got to the top of the stairs, he called out. "Cartman, I got your bag." No use getting punched if he just walked in. He heard a scurrying in the room and a slam of first his bedroom door and then what Kyle guessed to be his closet. Kyle shrugged to himself and was about to just drop the bag by the unopened door when it opened to show a very flushed Cartman. "Uh, hi." Kyle let out awkwardly. He didn't want to see that redness and the out of breath look right now, seeing Cartman in a weak state just wasn't fitting. It wasn't the first time he'd seen him look so worn out, he was obese after all, but this was the first time since he'd admitted to himself that he liked Cartman. He felt a blush crawl unwanted over his own cheeks.

Cartman saw this and stared. Their eyes locked for a moment and they both wanted to vomit all over themselves, not in a Stan way but because they were disgusted with their own reactions. Cartman, as usual, was the first to reclaim himself and grabbed the bag and forced his dazed look into a glare.

"Yeah, I'll be going now." Kyle turned and began to head away.

"Why do you have to make everything so awkward, Kyle?" Cartman called after him, causing him to turn around in confusion. Not that he was confused at the message, it made sense he supposed, but that it was Eric that said it. Why was the boy surprising him left and right, and now that he thought about it, why was it that Eric was always doing the unexpected of him?

Cartman stared at the smaller boy, who seemed to have no answer. He had finally caught his breath, had been scared to all hell and running around getting rid of evidence, such as one telltale towel - and he didn't mean Towlie. He could feel something swell in his overlarge stomach every time he looked at the boy now, and he really wished it would go away. Worse of all, he missed Kyle as he used to be, feisty and snappish and full of hate for him.

It made him wonder if the Jew still hated him. Because he wasn't so sure he hated the Jew anymore. The boy... frustrated him. That was a good word.

Kyle responded finally. "What's to be awkward about, Cartman? You hate me and I hate you. I'm a Jew, a day-walker, a hippie. You're a Nazi, a fat ass, and a bastard. I'm gay, you're a dick. Everyone thinks we're going to be fucking, which is a remarkable revelation since you recently gave me a hand job. What isn't there to be awkward about, you idiot?"

He was lying. "You're lying." Oh, contemplative wording there. Cartman wanted to smack himself.

"What part did I say wasn't true?"

Cartman pulled his large body into the hallway. "It's not that, everything you said is true, except that I'm fat." Kyle rolled his eyes. "But you're not saying something." Kyle gulped, proof that Eric was onto something. He walked up to the redhead with an intimidating sneer, but he was shocked that Kyle didn't back away, given his sudden timidness.

"I have some things I'm going through, Cartman, you know that. In fact you're the only person who knows that, which severely disturbs me. I wish I hadn't told you anything."

"I haven't ratted you out."

"That worries me in itself." Emerald eyes were glaring at him, why?

"Fine, I'll tell someone."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!"

"Then what do you mean?"

"Why aren't you trying to humiliate me?"

"I told you that humiliating you when your like this is no fun, Jewrat. Don't you listen?"

"No." Kyle closed his eyes, as if sealing his doom. "If it were true that you wanted me to get angry, you'd humiliate me just to get your bantering rival back." Good point. Uh oh. Kyle knew him too well.

It was on the tip of his tongue again, the wanting to spew out stories about the towel and the moans and the sighing and how much the lithe redhead had been running through his mind. He'd been having dreams, too, horribly wonderful dreams. "Get out of my house, Kyle." He said, suddenly aware that the flashes of his recent thoughts had invited a rather unwelcome feeling in his groin. He wasn't hard, yet, but he didn't trust himself stay that way.

"No."

This wasn't what Cartman had mean twhen he had wished that Kyle would argue with him again. "Get out, Jew!" But instead Kyle made his way past him and went into his room.

"No, I think that since it bothers you, I'll stay."

Cartman didn't know what had gotten into Kyle, but he didn't like it. He followed quickly, painfully paranoid about Kyle digging into his stuff. "Get out of my fucking house you mangy Jew. No one told you to come over in the first place!" He was getting angry now, even if it was pressed on by something other than actual anger at Kyle.

Kyle flopped onto Cartman's bed and Cartman sat down, as to hide a hard on that had tried to peek itself. If fat and baggy clothes were good for anything, it was now. Kyle was just laying there, his hat automatically falling off and red curls popping out joyfully. Part of his stomach was visible and thoughts ran through the fat boy's mind like brainwashing videos. He steadied himself mentally.

"I believe I wanted to have a conversation a couple days ago, and then you tried to destroy me." Cartman almost smiled, almost frowned, remembering the crying boy on the swing. His face stayed stoically the same because he couldn't decide which way to go with it.

"God damn it Kyle, I hate you so much." He growled. "Fine, what do you want to talk about, you sissy?"