It Must Look Pretty Appealing

Chapter 01 – You

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: this story is going to be weird…and sexual. Just a warning. I'm going to go crazy and have Style, Stanman and Kyman all at once…just because I can! I find the odds of three of the four boys being gay very unrealistic but I'm going to go ahead and roll with it because love triangles are so fun. Also, to those of you who just finished up my last fic "Bittersweet Bundle of Misery", thank you for the lovely reviews. I'm a very…tragic writer. I don't usually have happy endings…they're more of a treat. You just have to take your chances when you read my fics :P)

It all began on that awful, stormy day. It had been just a few days after Kyle Broflovski's twenty third birthday when he'd answered that damned knock on the door. Had he known the events that would later transpire he would never have answered. No, he would've gone on, blissfully happy and ignorant of his worst enemy's burning desire for him. He and Stan would've never fallen into the psychosexual, torrid triangle they'd indulged in. The long, awkward and shameful road back to normalcy would never, ever have had to be. He could've avoided every gut wrenching moment of it had he simply ignored that one, goddamned knock on the door.

Unfortunately, he hadn't.

"Cartman? What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Eric Cartman, his sworn enemy since he was eight years, was standing at the door looking pathetic as all hell. Rain was pouring down in sheets upon him as he stood with his head down and shoulders slumped. His brown hair was hanging soaked over his eyes. Adorning his sickeningly frail body he wore a black hooded sweatshirt, jeans and a pair of black boots.

Eric stood there, shivering and struggling to muster up the courage to ask if he could crash there for a while. He figured he would be shut down, but it was raining and he had nowhere else to go.

He slowly lifted his head, meeting his old friend's emerald eyes. He looked like he was doing really well. His red hair was exposed, not nearly as unruly as it had been when they were children. His skin was pale, yet pleasantly so. He wore a snug fitting, long sleeved, gray shirt, skinny jeans and socks on his feet. He looked like he had probably been lounging around.

"I need a place to stay, Jew," he said, not sure of any other way to communicate with Kyle.

Kyle narrowed his eyes at him and folded his arms across his chest, irritation instantly making its way across his face. However, he didn't seem nearly as enraged as he used to be at those sorts of comments.

As a matter of fact, Kyle wasn't really offended. For one thing it had been quite a few years since he'd actually had a conversation with Cartman. He'd seen him around town here and there but neither of them had bothered to greet the other. It simply wasn't fitting to the nature of their relationship. They'd always resented each other; so much so that once they'd graduated high school and were no longer forced into a classroom setting together they'd completely lost interest in each other. At least, that was what Kyle thought.

At the moment, rather than becoming filled with rage and irritation he found himself a little sympathetic. He hadn't directly asked Cartman about it, but he'd heard through the grapevine that Eric had fallen into drugs. The apple, apparently, didn't fall far from the tree. It would certainly explain his sickly physique.

"Why?" he asked flatly as he looked his old classmate over.

Eric's face showed nothing but disdain as he stood there, gritting his teeth.

"Jesus H. Christ, Asshole! It's fucking pouring do you have to ask me twenty questions or can I fucking come inside!" Eric demanded.

Kyle rolled his eyes and, against his better judgment, he stepped aside.

"Fine, come in you skinny piece of shit."

Eric quickly scooped up his backpack from the ground beside him, rushing into the house before Kyle changed his mind. As much as they were constantly engaged in an epic power struggle with each other he wasn't about to miss his chance to have a warm, dry place to sleep tonight.

As he reached the center of a rather nicely decorated living room he sort of shook his head around in an attempt to dry himself. He brushed his bangs out of his eyes before looking towards Kyle, his backpack slung over one of his shoulders casually.

Kyle leaned back against the front door, his arms folded across his chest once more. He was looking at him skeptically before he spoke.

"So…what's going on then? Why can't you go home?"

Eric looked around the living room, a little out of his element. He didn't particularly like being in Kyle's territory.

"My mom kicked me out," he said as he pulled his hoodie off and held it awkwardly, "look, can I go change before we do this? I'm drenched."

Kyle nodded at him before popping himself away from the door.

"Bathroom's this way," he said as he walked past Eric, motioning for him to follow with his hand.

Eric obliged as he made his way down a pretty long hallway to a small bathroom located in the middle of it to the right.

"Here you go…" Kyle said as he pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting Eric have his privacy.

He felt a little awkward as he strode back to the living room to wait for Eric. Fuck, he looked like shit. Kyle wasn't sure why but it made him a little sad. He had always hoped that Eric would get away from his mom and rise above it. Of course, it was no surprise he didn't. He had always been a little fuck up, despite how much he tried to act like he wasn't. How could he not have turned into a fucking drug addict? He had no father to guide him and he certainly didn't have a mother capable of filling the void.

He shook his head as he walked into his small kitchen, grabbing his teapot and putting it on the burner. He thought it would be nice to have some since Cartman had been out in the rain for God only knew how long.

He got the tea going and turned as he heard Eric walking up the hall.

"Hey," he greeted, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"Yup," Eric said as he set his backpack down beside the counter and had himself a seat on the one of the barstools before it, "you got anything to eat?"

"Uh, yeah," Kyle replied as he popped up again and walked over to his pantry, looking for something Eric might like. For the most part he and Stan kept healthy food at their place because of Kyle's diabetes and Stan's obsession with being thin as a rail.

"Here," he said as he plopped a bag of cheese popcorn down in front of his friend.

Eric took it, nodding his head at Kyle to show his appreciation as he pulled a handful out and munched on it. Kyle watched as he picked at the popcorn in his hand, breaking it up into smaller pieces before eating them. He was eating like a fucking bird.

Kyle shook his head as he returned to the counter, leaning on it once more.

"So, why'd your mom kick you out then?" he asked, knowing very well it had something to do with his addiction.

Eric was looking down at the popcorn in his hand before he sighed and held it out for Kyle.

"I don't want this anymore," he explained.

Kyle sighed, walking over and putting his hands out, allowing Eric to drop what was left of his handful into his. Jesus, he was really fucked up. Kyle watched as Eric dusted his hands off on his pants and stuck his tongue into the side of his mouth. He looked really antsy.

"She kicked me out because she's got a new boyfriend and she didn't want me in her way so they could fuck all the time or whatever."

Kyle stared at him, a little unsure as to whether or not that was the truth. He used to be able to tell when Cartman was lying to him. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Oh, uh…that sucks. I'm sorry, Dude."

"Yeah, so, I just need somewhere to stay until I can find a place. I've got some money saved up so it won't be long."

He was leaning on the counter now, tapping it nervously with his fingers. He was still licking the inside of his cheek feverishly as his eyes flickered around the room. Jesus he was fucked up.

"Uh, yeah. Well…you can stay here tonight but I gotta talk to Stan."

Eric nodded, still tapping his fingers on the countertop.

"Cool," he finally said as he slapped his hands on the counter, standing himself up and walking into the living room and plopping down on the couch, "you care if I watch TV?"

The teapot started to boil, causing Kyle to turn around and turn the burner off.

"Yeah, go ahead," he said, a little absent mindedly as he grabbed two tea cups and loaded them with tea bags, pouring the hot water over top of them. He gathered the two cups up and walked into the living room, having a seat beside Eric and setting the teacups on the coffee table before them.

Eric was leaning far back into the seat with his feet propped up on the table. He hadn't even bothered to remove his boots, with irritated Kyle a bit. However, he decided to keep his mouth shut and he leaned back as well.

"So…you and Stan are still butt buddies then?" Eric suddenly asked, his eyes fixated on the TV.

"Shut up, Cartman," Kyle replied, suddenly irritated. Funny how quickly Eric could find a way to get to him. He always knew just how to push his buttons.

However, much to Kyle's surprised he started to laugh a bit and looked towards him. As shitty and fucked up as Eric looked, Kyle couldn't help but notice he had a very striking face. He had a sort of…youthful angst to him that was very attractive.

"Why are you laughing, douche?" Kyle asked, doing his best to be angry at him. He wasn't comfortable being anything but.

"No reason. Don't worry about it. But I'm seriously, how long have you two been together now?"

Kyle folded his arms across his chest and looked at Eric, trying to decide whether or not they were about to have a real conversation. He decided to at least give it a go.

"Seven years now."

"Jesus…it's already been that long?" Eric asked, genuinely seeming surprised by the amount of time that had passed.

Kyle nodded, smiling a little bit. He was very proud of his relationship with Stan. They were perfect for each other in every way. He truly felt that they completed each other. They barely ever fought and when they did they always managed to come to some sort of conclusion. Neither of them steam rolled over the other and they still went out of their way to keep things romantic. They were both faithful and had a very healthy sex life. Honestly, there wasn't a thing he could really complain about.

As Eric noted the contentment on Kyle's face he couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He was deeply in love with that fucking Jew. It was something he'd spent the majority of his life trying to suppress. That was how he had fallen into drugs in the first place. He had started seeing this little boy toy named Ezra as a distraction when he was in high school and he was a massive druggie. He would do anything he could get his hands on and it eventually led to him dying of an overdose after two years of dating. It had been hard because, over time, he'd somewhat grown to love him and he certainly had felt the loss once he'd gone.

He had experimented a bit with drugs throughout their relationship but once he passed he became a full on coke-head. He did his best to hide it from everyone but once he'd lost a massive amount of weight in a very short period of time it became pretty obvious. Not too mention the fact that he was aching for more most of the time and it was apparent.

Suddenly, the two of them turned their attention to the front door as Stan walked in looking tired as hell.

"Hey babe," Kyle said as he remained on the couch.

"Hey," Stan said, looking questioningly at the two of them, "Uh…hi Cartman."

Eric looked him over disdainfully before responding, "'sup?"

"Not much," Stan said as he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and made his way to the couch, having a seat beside Kyle.

Kyle brought his feet up onto the couch and nuzzled himself up to Stan before sharing an affectionate welcome home kiss with him. Eric felt a little nauseated at the sight. It was so hard to watch someone else get to have him.

"So, uh…why are you here?" Stan finally asked, taking a sip of his beer.

Before Eric could answer Kyle spoke up, "his mom kicked him out. He needs a place to stay until he can get on his feet...?"

Eric watched intently as Stan seemed to think about it. Shit…he wasn't looking too bad these days either, though he was a little wet from the rain. He had on a black fedora, suit jacket, 'Sonic Youth' T shirt, skinny jeans and black boots. He must've been at band practice or something. He was a member of the local shitty punk band 'Upside Suicide'. Eric couldn't help but hate him in all of his pretty glory.

"Can you help us out with utilities and shit?" Stan asked, taking another swig.

Eric nodded. Jesus; everyone kept treating him like he was poor or something. Just because he did drugs didn't mean he had no money. In fact, he had a pretty sizeable bank account from an inheritance he'd received from one of his dead uncles. However, that was very much a secret.

"Yeah."

Stan considered it some more before shrugging, "yeah alright."

He didn't particularly care for Eric. He'd never had the soft spot for him Kyle seemed to have. Ironically enough, that was the thing that made him even consider it. He knew if he turned Eric away Kyle would be horribly disappointed in him and, if anything in this world bothered him, it was Kyle Broflovski's disappointment.

"Baby…you're getting the couch all wet," Kyle complained as he nuzzled Stan a little more, grabbing his suit jacket and putting his nose to his boyfriend's cheek.

"Sorry…" he replied, smiling a bit.

Eric felt a terrible emptiness as he watched them interact. He could see that they genuinely brought each other an incredible amount of happiness. Oh how he longed for that. It wasn't too far into their flirting session either that he could tell they were going to leave him and fuck it out, either. Goddamnit he hated them both so much right then.

"Alright…well…I'm fuckin' tired," Stan announced as he stood himself up, holding out his hand to help Kyle up.

Eric tried not to scowl.

"We have a spare bedroom, Cartman. I'll show you where it is," Kyle said warmly, smiling genuinely at him. As much as he hated him, that smile fucking melted his heart like butter. He forgave him immediately for not loving him. It was always like this. This was why he hadn't spoken to him in years.

"Yeah, alright," he said as he stood up and retrieved his backpack, following Stan and Kyle down the hallway. They were holding hands much to his distaste. He had to have Kyle. He had to find a way to break them.

"Here you go," he said as he opened the door of the room directly across from the bathroom he'd used before.

He peered in, noting that it was small, smelled slightly of lavender and was nicely put together. He found himself wondering who did the decorating.

"Kewl…" he said as he walked in.

He stood there for a split second before turning around, catching Kyle's eyes. In a moment of enchantment and utter disregard for his rough persona he found himself mouthing the words 'thank you' to him, not wanting Stan to see.

Kyle's face showed complete shock for a moment before he smiled at him, shutting the door behind him as he walked away.

Wow…what a fucking surprise. Eric never fucking thanked him for anything. He wasn't sure why but it gave him a bit of a 'high on life' sort of feeling. He was grinning ear to ear as he entered his bedroom, Stan already stripped down to his boxers.

"What are you so smiley about, sexy?" Stan asked, smiling back at him.

"Nothing…" he said playfully as Stan approached him. Kyle backed into the wall knowing that Stan was going to have him tonight. He enjoyed playing these games with him.

"Hmmmm…" Stan mumbled as he pressed his body firmly against his boyfriends, running his hands through his hair.

"Gimme your hat," Kyle insisted, noting that Stan had left it on. He looked fucking adorable in his boxers and hat.

"Take off your pants," Stan retorted, taking off his hat and clumsily placing it atop Kyle's fiery red hair.

Kyle smirked at him, doing as he was told.

"Do I look good?" Kyle asked playfully, his heart starting to race. No matter how many times they'd fucked he still got excited.

Stan smiled at him, lust heavy in his eyes, before grabbing Kyle's neck, gently pulling on a few locks of his hair as he started to kiss him passionately.

Kyle breathed heavily as his heart continued to race. He grabbed onto Stan's back and let out a few soft, breathy moans here and there. He knew it drove Stan mad when he made noise.

"Fuck, Kyle…" Stan said desperately as he grabbed his ass and lifted him up.

Kyle wrapped his legs around him and allowed him to push him up against the wall. He let out a more forceful moan as Stan suddenly let himself in, the familiar warmth of Kyle getting him off.

As they had sex Kyle writhed around and moaned seductively, Stan's hat falling off his head as he continued to throw his head back, exposing his neck to his lover. It sent him into ecstasy when he would suck and nibble at his neck, which he always did.

"Stan…nnnnmmmmm…" he whined as he felt himself start to climax.

Stan sucked at his neck and bit harder as he felt Kyle start to shake under the pressure of his orgasm. It sent him over the edge as well.

Once they were done Stan held him up against the wall, the two of them struggling to catch their breath. After a moment Stan backed off and gently placed Kyle back to the ground. They were still breathing heavily as Stan bent down and grabbed his hat.

"I love you," Kyle gasped between his breaths, smiling happily at his boyfriend.

Stan had caught his breath at this point and he smiled at him, totally satisfied. He spun his hat around in his hands before plopping it atop Kyle's head once more.

"I love you, too."

…

Eric was sitting Indian style on the bed. He had a handheld mirror he kept in his backpack on his lap, four thin lines of coke already set up for himself. He had a small paper he'd rolled up and he was leaning over the mirror for just a second before he snorted them up one at a time. It burned really fucking bad, each and every line worse than the last. Still, he needed it.

Once he was done he shoved the mirror back into his bag and laid down on the bed, enjoying the three or four minutes of joy he would feel before the nerves and jitters would set in. It didn't help the fact that he had heard Kyle and Stan fucking each other's brains out in their room, despite the fact it was a respectable distance from his. They were kind of loud. Well…Kyle was anyway.

He felt his stomach lurch. He wanted to make Kyle moan like that. He wanted to send him to the moon. He was certain he could fuck better than Stan; he had to be able to. He could do things to Kyle that Stan would never even think of.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself as he noted that the familiar, paranoid and depressed feeling his high generated had settled in. He hated the way he felt when he was high, but he hated being sober more. His body needed the coke to function so he would always indulge it.

One of these days though…one of these days he will have had enough. Either that or he would die trying to get there.