Title: Irresistible

Author Athena2693

Rating NC-17

Summary: Kyle is bored with his relationship with Stan and needs a little passion in his life

A/N: Yeah so what? I can totally decide to suddenly write another chapter a year and a half later, what of it?

"If you were to be suddenly turned into a vampire, what do you think the worst part would be," Kyle had asked Christophe once on a warm spring afternoon in an attempt to get to know this man, this stranger really, who had spent so much time inside Kyle's most intimate of places where only one man had ever been before.

They had been meeting up for months at that point, spending several hours a week together every week, but they never had a real conversation. Not one about true thoughts or feelings anyway. Most of their conversations were either quick instructions on when to meet up next or dirty talk in bed.

The sun had been streaming through the glass panes, covering the sheets and the bed's occupants with warm golden rays. They had both finished a few minutes before and had been quiet and relaxed since, Kyle contemplating the mysteries of life quietly while Christophe smoked a cigarette. Kyle had arched his back as he stretched sleepily before asking the question like a lazy cat on a window sill, lithe and boneless, knowing full well that killing humans would be the least of Christophe's concerns, considering his occupation.

"No being able to fuck anymore," Christophe replied without missing a beat, as if he had thought this out before.

"If you were a vampire then sex would be nothing," Kyle argued, stretching his arms out in front of him so his belly rested against the sheets, "Feeding would be like the best orgasm you ever had and you'd get it every night."

"I like fucking," Christophe insisted.

"But that's like saying you wouldn't want to start having sex with somebody because you'd miss jacking off. Obviously you wouldn't miss it because sex is better."

"I like jacking off too," Christophe replied bluntly. "And why would I stop just because I was fucking someone?"

"Aren't you going to ask what would be the worst part of being a vampire for me," Kyle asked, ignoring the question.

"Why would I care?"

"Never seeing the sun again," Kyle went on as If the Frenchman had not spoken. "Lying in the sun, feeling the warmth on a hot summer day. Just walking through the town square on a sunny day and feeling like the world is bright and beautiful. If you were a vampire you'd never experience another sunny day."

"Why would you want to," Christophe had countered gruffly, "You're a redhead, you get sunburned every time you're outside for more than ten minutes. Being a vampire would do wonders for your complexion."

That had been the end of their conversation that day.

Now, as Kyle watched the sun move across the sky from the windows of the car he just wished it had never risen that morning. That morning had never come. Partly because if today had never come than he would never have to answer that phone call, and partly because the glaring sun made him feel wide open and exposed. Like his whole dirty secret life was about to be exposed. He wished he could just crawl in a dark cave and never come back out.

How did it come to this? Here it was, the fifteenth anniversary of the day the love of his life had asked him to be his boyfriend, and he was near having a panic attack. They were on their first real get away for ages, on their way to an extravagant vacation to a beautiful hotel in one of the greatest cities in the United States, and he wasn't even excited about it. What kind of man had Kyle Broflovski become?

The worst part was he couldn't even turn to anybody for advice. Nobody knew about his affair. Definitely not Stan, but he also kept it from his close friends like Kenny and Butters. And just forget about Cartman. For all he knew Cartman might even had been the one to leave that note on his door. It was so like Cartman to do something like that. He probably would have attempted to blackmail him.

That's probably what this guy was going to do to. Why even bother contacting him otherwise? It was quite unlikely this "Secret Observer" just wanted to chat about sex toys and share kinky stories.

What Kyle wouldn't give to just be able to curl up in Stan's arms and tell him everything? Let Stan deal with whatever bad things were coming his way. That's how it used to be, whenever Kyle was overwhelmed by the stress of working and going to school at the same time and just couldn't deal with any addition to life's daily stressed. He'd give Kyle a kiss on the top of the head and go off to deal with the dent Kyle had just put in his car or the Jehova Witness that kept following him around on campus. But this time…

Stan's intuition was so strong that he could easily sense that something was wrong with Kyle. He kept bringing Kyle's hand to his lips and kissing his fingers as they drove and even inquired about his somber mood several times, though Kyle repeatedly informed him that nothing was wrong.

At about 2:50 Kyle started to get anxious. The sun had already reached the highest point in the sky by then and had started on its way back down. He'd need to be alone for a bit to answer his phone, hopefully this mysterious caller would be on time, and there didn't appear to be much around to constitute a stop. Stan had just refilled the tank less than an hour ago and there weren't any tourist traps around to pull them in. Finally Kyle just pulled the classic bathroom excuse when he saw a sign for a rest stop two miles down the road.

"You just went at the gas station," Stan pointed out.

"I'm getting motion sick," Kyle insisted, "It's messing with my stomach."

Stan relented and they pulled off at the rest stop. Kyle lucked out when Stan decided to go into the stop's Burger King and get something to eat.

The call came at 3:01 while Kyle was washing his face in the sink.

"Having a fun trip, Broflovski?"

He knew that voice…But of course he did, if they knew him of course he knew them. And South Park wasn't exactly a thriving metropolis. Still he couldn't quite place it. It was on the tip of his tongue, just escaping the edge of his mind.

"That depends on what you have to say," he responded in faux-indifference.

"Don't worry Broflovski, I'm not going to ruin your little trip. I'm not a total asshole. Even if you don't do what I tell you I'll at least wait until you get back to break the news to your hippie boyfriend."

An image of an old rival suddenly appeared as a flash in his mind, a little dark-haired boy with icy blue eyes who scowled too much and stole the swings on the playground.

"Craig." Of course he had seen Craig many times since the flash in his head, had went through high school with him and saw him around town, but he hadn't really seen him as an advisory since they were just kids. It was like how they were when Kyle was a pre-teen, Craig was now a threat once again.

"Really? It took you that long? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one." There was no humor in his voice, no sarcasm or real mocking tone, just a dull observation from perhaps the most uninteresting man Kyle had ever known.

"Why are you bothering me? Why do you even care? You hate Stan."

"I'm still a man."

"What…what does that even mean?" Kyle had no idea what Craig was implying. Are all men required to inform other men when their significant other is cheating on them? Was it like some sort of bro code?

"I won't tell Stan you're fucking around with the Mole behind his back but in return I think you should share some of that with me."

"Share what? The Mole? What do you want with him?"

"No Broflovski, you stupid dipshit, I mean that I won't tell Stan about it as long as I get to fuck you too."

What the fuck was happening to Kyle's life?

"And get tested first, I don't want some hippie French disease."

Kyle spent the entire week in Las Vegas, for the most part, thoroughly drunk off his ass. If Stan were a bit suspicious of Kyle's behavior he was too drunk to notice and at least Kyle was a happy drunk so it made the trip rather enjoyable. It was Vegas so it was expected and Stan joined him in the drunken revelry. They went to see the Blue Man group and the Lion King rather buzzed, which made both shows exciting and garish, and Kyle was rarely seen without a drink in hand. They went out for expensive sushi and cheap burritos and performed at several karaoke joints in a row. Kyle won three hundred dollars at roulette and Stan lost four hundred at craps. After downing a foot long frozen slushy with a test tube of Everclear added as a last minute touch, Kyle dragged Stan into bed and attempted to have his way with him. They were both much too drunk and barely managed to maintain a half-erection between the two of them. Kyle passed out shortly after with his jeans unbuttoned but still hanging off his hips. Stan tucked him into bed and kissed him on the forehead before heading down to the casino to people watch for a couple more hours before joining Kyle in sleep. That was the only attempt either of them started at an erotic moment in the city of sleaze.

"Why do you think Stan would believe you over me anyway? I'm his lover, his best friend since we were both in diapers, and he's always hated you." Kyle absently stirred his mojito, swirling the muddled green sprigs and watching them settle again towards the bottom, too distracted really to enjoy the refreshing mint, but needing something to do with his hands. He felt awkward, alone with only Craig and an absent bartender for company.

Craig rolled his eyes at Kyle's shrill, bitchy voice and sipped at the gin and tonic on the bar before him.

"Broflovski, don't make me resort to pictures or eye witness testimonies. Come on, you're already fucking the Mole, what's the big deal? And yes, I do have pictures and eye witness testimonies. Finish your fruity little drink so we can go up to the room."

"I don't get you Craig," Kyle spat out angrily, "Since when were you ever interested in me? You haven't said two words to me since middle school before all of this shit. And whatever happened to your perfect little fairy tale romance with Tweek?" A flash of the blond crossed Kyle's mind as he remembered seeing him, a senior in high school with his hair standing up in all directions and perpetual bags under his eyes. Again, Kyle had probably seen Tweek since then, but if so it hadn't left an impression in his mind.

"Tweek's probably at home ironing my pants," Craig replied smoothly, "Unfortunately, that's about all he'll do with them. I love him with all my heart but the little spaz still freaks out after all these years. Making out leaves him pulling out half his hair, if it ever turned into heavy petting I'm positive he'd have a full on panic attack." Craig set his drink down and rested his elbows on the bar, running his fingers through his dark hair. "I love him too much to ask that from him."

"So he's fine with you getting your rocks off with the most easily accessible human you can locate in the immediate vicinity?" Kyle finished off the last of the mojito he had been nursing for awhile. It had been weak and he barely felt the alcohol, which said a lot considering how small he was. It didn't take much usually to get him buzzed.

"He doesn't know. And you won't tell him." Craig said in a matter-of-fact way.

"Oh yeah," Kyle smirked, "What's stopping me?"

"Tweek needs me. He'd be a mess for awhile, but he'd get over it. It's not like he could get a job and move out. Stan won't get over it. You know that. If he finds out, your relationship is over." Craig put a twenty on the table before them, enough for both drinks and the tip, and then slid off the bar stool. "Come on Broflovski." He extended a hand to Kyle.

"You could at least call me by my first name," Kyle replied with a resigned sigh. He slid down as well but ignored Craig's outstretched hand.

They didn't speak as they took the stairs back upstairs to the room Craig had rented. Kyle wasn't used to the motels having a bar in them, the ones Christophe took him to were lucky to have running water and air conditioning. However, it had ended up being a rather convenient place to meet. There wasn't much of a chance of running into a local at a bar that mostly served people from out of town. Kyle had a feeling that, if this did end up being a repeated action, Craig would probably skimp out on the choice of location in the future. Still, he appreciated the guesture.

Craig triple locked the door after them, as if afraid Kyle would suddenly attempt to run, and then turned and grabbed the redhead in an abrupt hold. It took Kyle by surprise and he jumped for a second, but then let himself go limp and pliant again Craig's taller form. Craig's lips met his with so much hunger that Kyle felt at once both anxious, knowing there was no way he'd be able to fight off Craig's advances if he tried, and a bit more relaxed, realizing that Craig's actions were born from desperation. Kyle wondered how long it had been since Craig had sex.

Lips swollen, Kyle pulled himself away from the dark haired man. He was sucking so hard on Kyle's tongue that it actually took quite a bit of effort and left his taste buds swollen and sore.

"Before we start, I just want you to know I've only ever been with Stan and Christophe," Kyle said quietly, nervously reaching up to brush a piece of hair from his forehead. "I mean, I'm experienced, I've done a lot…but not with many people. I'm not sure if I'll know how to please you so can you…can you just be nice?"

"I won't hurt you, if that's what you mean," Craig breathed. His hands hungrily rubbed at Kyle's shoulders and arms, like it was physically impossible for him to stop touching the smaller man. "I'm afraid to say I have quite few experiences…though with quite a few people. That is, the type you have to pay for the pleasure of their company. I'm afraid when you only get to touch people because they're paid to let you, you never really know if they like it. I'm sorry if I don't know how to please you either Kyle, but tell me what you like and what you don't, okay? I'll learn." Craig stepped forward and crushed Kyle's body against him again. "I know people see me as a monster but I can be nice."

"I know you can," Kyle trembled against him, "If you couldn't Tweek wouldn't adore you."

You'd think after having sex with Stan for years and his affair with Christophe that being touched by another guy would be nothing, but it wasn't. Stan was his best friend. Christophe was a sex god, and to be truthful it wasn't like his first time was exactly welcomed, so there hadn't been any time to feel any guilt or performance anxiety. But Craig? An old enemy, probably just waiting to judge him? He'd probably fuck him a few times, tell him he was loose and a lousy lay, and then go ahead and spill everything to Stan afterwards, just for the laughs.

Kyle tried to shake those thoughts from his head. Old insecurities. Craig wasn't acting like that. Truthfully, he never really had. Childhood rivalries over stupid things.

He didn't seem to possess Christophe's roughness, but there was that sense of urgency and pure want that Stan never seemed to carry anymore there. Kyle had a feeling that if he hadn't been so nervous he might've been able to enjoy the caresses. He lay on the bed, not responding to Craig's actions, not returning the rough kiss or clumsy fumbling. When Craig reached into Kyle's jeans he was completely soft and trembling rather violently in the other man's arms. Craig stopped his administrations and lay panting heaving, half on top of the redhead, his face and breath damp in Kyle's neck. For a moment Kyle wondered if he had come prematurely already. But then Craig just let out a loud, long drawn sigh. He slid off Kyle without comment, walked over to the wallet he had set on the dressed, and opened it, shuffling around the content. Finally, he pulled out a tiny baggy, made a shaking movement over his hand, and returned to the bed, cradling something in his palm. He held his hand out to Kyle.

"Take these, Kyle." Two white pills lay before him.

"What are they?" Now Craig was trying to drug him?

"Just some of Tweek's medication, I keep them on me for when he loses it in public. They'll calm you down."

"I don't need drugs, Craig."

"You're shaking like a redheaded Chihuahua," the older man insisted. "They won't hurt you, they'll just calm you down. Just take one for now if you want. If you like how it makes you feel and you want the full dosage I'll give you the second one."

Kyle stared up at Craig uneasily. Then he sighed a small sigh and reached for one of the pills.

The Jew was larger than the blond they were intended for, in both height and build, but Tweek had also had time to build a level of immunity to them over the years. They hit him quickly and effectively. By the time he asked Craig to hand feed him the second pill, Kyle felt like his body was dissolving into the mattress and the world seemed beautiful and peaceful to him. He grabbed Craig's hand as he slid the pill between the smaller man's lips and sucked at his fingers, enjoying the deep swallow he saw bob in Craig's throat. He lay there, sprawled out and compliant, as Craig took what he wanted. He let his eyes drift shut as the larger man moved awkwardly on top of him, seeing Victorian paintings of flowers on the ceiling, and feeling a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time. He turned his head to kiss Craig's temple, which was damp and smelled of shampoo.

'I should be somewhere right now,' Kyle thought mildly to himself. But he had no idea where that somewhere was supposed to be and his body felt much too heavy to go anywhere, let alone climb out of bed.

"Thank you for holding up my legs for me," Kyle told Craig politely, for he was quite sure he lacked the energy to hold them up that high himself.

"Anytime," Craig grunted breathlessly.