Recess. All the kids at South Park elementary ran out into the playground as Mr. Garrison emitted a long sigh. All except two.

Kyle Broflovski sat behind the coat racks, stretching his legs as he waited.

"Hey Jew," Cartman said as he approached, and Kyle threw a bag of Cheesy Poofs at him. Cartman reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of pie covered in cellophane. He handed it to the Hebrew.

"Why is there so little?" Kyle asked, spinning it around in his hands.

"Beats me," Cartman turned away.

"For fucks Cartman!" Kyle sighed, but broke off a crumb anyway and stuffed it in his mouth.

"Don't fraternise me Kahl, you're the one who trusted it with me!" Cartman said, "of course I'm going to fucking eat it!"

They looked at each other, their brows knotted in annoyance. They heard footsteps approaching.

"Oh, hey you two," Stan said, "just getting something from my jacket."

"Hello," they muttered in unison.

"Still not going to come outside?"

They shook their heads.

"Okay then," Stan raised his eyebrows and walked away. He was still trying to wrap his mind around his two friends being together. Was together the right word? He used to think they were like Wendy and him but he realised soon that they weren't at all. Because he could be apart from Wendy, he could not think about her for days and it wasn't that he didn't adore her, he just didn't need her.

It was impossible to get those two apart. Kyle seemed jittery and spacey alone, and Cartman was just even angrier than usual. Though upon asking, both will tell you they hate the other.

Stan released a sigh and walked back outside.

Cartman threw a cheesy poof at Kyle.

"Cartmaaaan!"

"Yes?" He threw another one.

"Stop it, I've already got a headache," Kyle sighed.

"Dear god, what's wrong with you?" Cartman said, and stuck three cheesy poofs into his expanse of a mouth.

"You're what's wrong with me, asshole," Kyle complained. Cartman rolled his eyes and crumpled the empty wrapper in his hands. He threw it across the room and it landed right next to the trash can.

"Thinking about you always gets me into trouble," Kyle muttered. Cartman gave a soft smile and punched Kyle playfully on the shoulder. Kyle grabbed his hand like swatting a fly and clung onto the podgy fingers.

Cartman let out a little moan, and clenched his thighs. Kyle took everything out of him, as if the stupid kike had part of his fucking soul. He hated him so much he needed him. He was life, he was everything. He was that opposition he hated and wanted, he was in his blood and brain and the beating of his heart. He made him want to explode and kill the boy. He made him want to be near him all the fucking time.

It had become ridiculous, truly. If he killed them, would it end?

He had to much self-importance, self-love to kill himself. Dude, he was fucking kickass. And ever since the day he decided to save Kyle from the Smug Storm he knew that he needed him there. He could hit him and make him cry but he could never kill him. He seeped through him. He made his throat dry and his heart fast and his dick hard.

The words Kyle Broflovski felt like acid on his tongue. Fiery, hot acid.

Kyle, breathing heavily, turned to Cartman. He moved until he was on the bigger boys lap and they were face to face. Cartman pushed Kyle by the shoulders until their groins pressed together and each let out a heady sigh that travelled from one body to the other by erogenous passageways.

Kyle placed his hands underneath Cartman's shirt and the latter let out a yelp.

"Fucking cold Jew!"

Kyle just laughed and pinched the skin.

This was passion born from hate. Need born from obsession. Their friends would walk away when the two fought and neither would notice. So much staring at each others eyes, it was more recognizable then looking in a mirror. Kyle's cock throbbed as his heart felt ready to collapse.

"Should we say it?"

"Qué?" Cartman asked, reverting to Spanish. His mind was too busy to care.

Kyle said nothing, but thrust into Cartman in a rigorous dry hump.

"Jesus Christ!" Cartman panted, and pushed Kyle against himself until their chests were against each other. Kyle kissed Cartman's jaw, and then his upper lip…

"Kahl Broflovski," Cartman said slowly, as if he was still speaking a foreign language.

Acid, such hot, burning acid. It was perfect.

Kyle stared at Cartman for a moment, at the way his face had suddenly become tormented yet angelic, and red as a tomato.

Then, Kyle began to sob. His entire body heaved and his hands turned to fists and Cartman just held him so tight he thought his eyes would pop out.

Holding onto Cartman's face he took him into a painful kiss. Their teeth banged together and the strong metallic taste of blood was thick.

They heard a loud cough. Freezing, they opened their eyes and pulled apart. Craig stood there, his eyebrows raised to the moon.

"I just want to get my coat," He said in his nasal voice, "that was…yeah."

He reached over them to get his jacket and with a long whistle he walked away.