Anyway, I've been just dieing to write something so from my time borrowing my eight year old sister's computer I give to you...this.
***
A childhood had been spent in battle, words stinging so deep. They would put forth themselves into fights because no battle was sweeter than one won against someone who stands for everything you object.
Cartman hated and obsessed. Remembered everything about him not just to use in combat but because he simply couldn't help himself. The blood boiling hate was deliriously intoxicating as he thought about him. Holding on to memories of touch and argument until brain goes fuzzy. Perverse enjoyment from an enemy who had the power to make you forget everything but what he'd just said. The world never mattered when it came to war with Kyle Broflovski.
It was a push and pull of hate and friendship. And eventually hate and desire.
Because each would search for the fight and the face, until they themselves were exhausted from heated words and crotch.
There was always tension that waited for a punch or a kiss.
And Cartman who had always had a penchant for dressing up was unsurprisingly into boys. And neither was it a surprise that Kyle, so uninterested in the female population, was on the same side. For once.
But above the homosexuality and the adolescent cravings, the reasons they grew short-breathed for each other were less liable to be frivolous.
They carried around with them a life-worth of emotional build-up. And it was that that had caused thirteen year old Kyle to agree against sensibility to stay a night at Cartman's house.
"'Hello Eric! We have recommended for you...' twenty-two documentaries about the holocaust," Kyle sighed, flicking through Cartman's TV.
"Stupid machine, I've probably seen them all anyway," Cartman said, walking over to look at the screen, "yep, seen them."
"Okay-"
"Oh wait! Not that one!" Cartman suddenly interrupted, and jumped over the couch to sit next to Kyle.
"We are not watching a fucking-"
"Shu up it's starting!"
"...I hate you."
Cartman gave Kyle's shin a little kick and began to watch flashing images of concentration camps. After an obscenely large amount of time Kyle glared over at Cartman, "why are we doing this?"
"What the fuck, asswipe?"
"You invited a Jew around to your house and then watch holocaust documentaries with him," Kyle said, "the complete moral deprivation that this requires-"
"Oh dude! One just died!" Cartman said, pointing and laughing like a small child. And the smile plastered on his face made Kyle's stomach churn. For the fact that the boy next to him was morally retarded and for the fact that it was turning him on. Because undeserving Cartman was beautiful and he needed him because he had spent thirteen years wanting nothing more but to reach his soul. To harm and now to touch.
He hated him. Hated him for loving him and hated him for inviting him round and then watching a bunch of dead Jews. So he punched him. Hard.
Cartman instantly spun around to the stronger boys painful assault. One look at Kyle was all it took to jump on him like a mad man.
And he didn't jump on him to kick him or tear at his hair. He jumped on him so he could slide Kyle's leg in between his own and grind. Fast. His hands were on each side of Kyle's head and their eyes locked. The look was more intense and more full of lust then any other couple in any other world could ever hope to achieve.
Cartman was just dry humping him, because removing clothes would take too long and he had spent thirteen years building up to a climax he was about to get.
And Kyle - stronger Kyle - didn't push him off. Instead he smirked at his little victory and held Cartman's shoulders. His own bulge was growing as he felt Cartman's grind to and fro against his thigh. Increasing speed, becoming faster. Cartman moaned with each thrust, a deep guttural sound that could have come from the bottom of his chest.
Faster, more swelling. Faster. Faster, faster. Fasterfasterfastefastfasfa-
Shit.
Kyle felt heat from in between Cartman's legs against his own, and didn't bother to move away. Instead, he laughed, "you creamed your pants dude!"
"Fuck you Kahl."