Kyle Broflovski shivered slightly in the nippy December breeze as it blew against his exposed neck and wrists, goosebumps exploding on his pallid flesh. He pulled his gloves farther up his hands and withdrew his forest green scarf from his coat pocket, wrapping it around his neck as he trudged toward the bus stop with his boyfriend of two years, Eric Cartman, keeping stride beside him. Eric was a barrel-chested, broad-shouldered, sardonic hunk of man with a sensitive side that only Kyle was ever privileged enough to see. He lost most of his childhood baby fat when he was thirteen, his mother having sent him to a fat camp as punishment for setting City Hall on fire. His brunette hair fell in a lazy tousle around his chiseled face, cleft chin on slightly pronounced jaw, seemingly ever-present smirk and perfect, straight nose under a pair of mischievous, heavily ambitious blue eyes and arched eyebrows.

The slightly older boy, noticing Kyle's scoping, shot him a suggestive smirk, raising one of those interesting eyebrows of his. Kyle blushed slightly and smiled a small smile back, turning his face back toward the sidewalk so that only his profile showed.

A sudden recollection of their last fuck session, which had been maybe two or three days ago, made him blush even harder; Cartman had been driving them, half-drunk, through South Park after leaving one of Token Black's infamous house parties, where they'd gotten lost and Cartman had pulled over on the side of the dirt road leading up into the woods and snatched up Kyle's hand, shoving it forcefully down the front of his pants before leaning over and hoarsely whispering, "I'm gonna fuck the ginger out of you, you little whore." Kyle, who had been almost as intoxicated as his boyfriend, felt his breath hitch as he frantically undid his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car, remembering the dead weight of Cartman on his back, his hot Vodka breath on his upturned cheek as they fumbled with their clothes and began screwing like crazed animals. Another breeze hit, stronger, colder, and Kyle felt his teeth chattering.

"You cold, babe?" Cartman asked, not waiting for an answer as he threw his large bi- and tri-ceped arm around Kyle's narrow shoulders, instantly warming him with his unusually high but familiar body heat. The redhead nuzzled into the half-embrace, smiling widely to himself.

"Mmm, you're the warmest boyfriend ever." he praised as they continued along, petting Cartman's ego. Cartman chuckled throatily.

"What about the sexiest?" he growled as he bit him playfully on his ear, causing Kyle to squeal and giggle uncharacteristically, punching him on the arm playfully.

"No way! You're way too fat!" Kyle challenged, running off behind a pile of freshly fallen snow and crouching, hurriedly packing snow into his gloved hands and peeking up over the mound to see a red-faced, pissed-off Cartman doing the same thing. Dodging the curveball the brunette threw his way, he quickly stood up and threw his own, nailing him right in the face.

"You fucking Jew asshole!" Cartman shouted as he wiped snow from his face. Kyle had collapsed into a fit of giggles when Cartman appeared over him and pinned him to the ground, their noses touching.

"You have a big kike nose, you know that?" Cartman taunted, rubbing their noses together as Kyle pouted.

"Fuck you, Cartman. You said you liked my pug nose."

"I lied, obviously. I mean, who could like anything about a sneaky little Hebe like you?" he sneered as he moved to connect their lips. Kyle, anticipating his vulnerability, kneed him in the groin the moment their lips touched, making Cartman groan and collapse on top of him. Kyle gasped for air as his much smaller body was crushed by Cartman's massive weight.

"Hey, Fatass, you're going to kill me! Get off!" he croaked, eyes watering, pushing impotently at the larger teen who was grinning through his own pain at Kyle's, obviously enjoying his useless struggle.

"Get off? Well, why didn't you say so sooner, my love?" he purred lewdly as he moved to his knees, still keeping Kyle under him by locking his legs firmly against the redhead's and pinning his wrists above his head. Kyle coughed and sputtered, his face and what of his throat was exposed by his scarf delectably flushed, his emerald eyes shining with tears.

"Cartman, you gigantic prick." he groaned, glaring up at the dominant boy, trying to fight off a masochistic smile.

They were both a little hard and a little hot and bothered, but, the hilarity of their childishness made them double over with laughter and roll around in the snow as if they weren't seventeen year old boys, but, the ten year old children they used to be. Cartman stood up eventually and held out his large hand, which Kyle promptly took. They continued with their snowball fight in a fit of manic euphoria until Kyle looked at his watch and realized that the bus would arrive at any moment.

"Cartman, stop! We're gonna miss the bus!" he shouted at the brunette, who was in the process of making yet another snowball and, hearing Kyle's announcement, dropped it and grabbed his hand as they ran to the bus stop, just barely making it as the bus pulled up and that crazy old cunt of a bus driver gave them the third degree about missing their bus and horsing around. They ignored her, smiling at each other like they shared a delicious secret as Kyle laid his curly-haired cranium on Cartman's shoulder and slept all the way to school.

-/-/-

"So, what, Stan? Are you saying that you can't make it?" an irritated Kyle barked into his home phone as he sat in the livingroom, his little brother, Ike, the only other one in the house as his mother was out getting groceries and his father was busy at work. Ike was out of earshot in the kitchen, making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before having to head out for the South Park Middle School's Hockey Tryouts. Kyle was certain that his little Canadian sibling was a shoo in for team captain, having no doubt in his mind that Ike would make the team. He had been playing non-stop since he was just three years old. The only concern was that he was only nine years old, practicing with a bunch of other nine and ten year olds. The people he would be up against would be between the ages of eleven to fourteen, so he would have an immediate disadvantage. But, Ike was clever, he knew the game inside and out, could play it in his sleep -and his athletic ability was nothing to scoff at. So Kyle was almost certain that he could take on the older kids.

"No, if you had been listening, you'd realize that I said that I may not be able to be there on time or might not be able to come if Wendy drags me to her friend's wedding in the Denver. You know how far it is from South Park, Kyle. Why are you being so-"

"Ok, I'll count on you not showing up, as usual." Kyle interrupted, irked by Stan's recent habit of flaking out on showing up to parties and events that Kyle has invited him to. His girlfriend seemed hell-bent on keeping Stan away from him as of late. Kyle had a sneaking suspicion that Wendy somehow found out about the very short-lived, clumsy, and practically platonic romance that he and Stan shared when they were twelve years old and just beginning to figure out their own sexualities.

They had only ever kissed and seen eachother's penises, nothing more, nothing less.

It turned out that Stan was straight and Kyle was bisexual. They only stayed together until they reached that conclusion, which was about four months time. Cartman and Kyle had still been rivals at that time so this newfound information stayed between Stan and him until they were fourteen, when Kyle came out to all four of his friends. Kenny began hitting on him, being a perverted bisexual whore himself, but, Kyle wasn't really interested in him that way.

Cartman acted like he wasn't surprised in the least, but, he still ripped on him about it mercilessly until they wound up together in a whirlwind of intense sexual tension and hidden affection when they were fifteen. Shortly after that, they both came out to everyone in South Park.

Cartman's mother was wonderfully apathetic, like they both expected, and Sheila went into a fit of disgusted rage and tried to get the Mayor to reestablish the law against homosexuality and sodomy, which she immediately denied. For awhile, she disowned Kyle and he was forced to live with Cartman during that time. Fortunately, Gerald was able to calm her down after about a month or so and Kyle was able to move back in.

But, now, Stan was being a distant, uninterested asshole. And Kyle wasn't exactly sure why. He'd invited Stan to Ike's tenth birthday three weeks ago and now he was easing his way out of it two days before the party.

"Whatever, man. Be a dick then. Bye." Stan dismissed him, placing the blame.

"Fuck you, you cocksucker! I'm not the one who's bailing on this friendship!" Kyle fumed as he slammed the receiver down and closed his eyes, his slender digits squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"What's wrong, bro?" came Ike's voice from the kitchen doorway. Kyle glanced up at him and sighed.

"Dickhead isn't coming to your birthday."

Ike chuckled. "Which dickhead are we talking about now?"

"Oh, none other than the alchoholic, pussy-whipped Stan Marsh." Kyle replied, actually managing a smile.

"I don't care. Fuck him. All I care about is that you and Cartman come." Ike reassured him as he plopped down next to him on the sofa, stuffing his face with his PBJ.

Kyle felt his mood soften as he looked at his little brother, taking in his thick wavy black locks and wide doe eyes -a subtle sapphire color that betrayed his intellect through his otherwise innocent-seeming irises- with a kind of appreciative and impressed wonder that only an older brother could possess. A tiny copse of freckles, much like his own, dabbled his effeminate upturned nose and his wide, pale pink mouth exposed perfectly straight and white teeth which Kyle was fairly envious of.

Not to mention his slender, boyish yet toned and athletic form that he acquired through his constant and fiercely competitive love and loyalty to his sport. Coming along nicely, with the cutest little ass he'd ever seen. If he didn't know they weren't blood related, he'd swear that sweet, tight little asses ran in the family because he'd gotten more than a few compliments himself over his own noteworthy behind. A lot of girls, specifically Bebe and Rebecca, would kill for an ass like his. And they'd said as much.

Ok, so he admitted it -he was sexually attracted to Ike. He didn't think that it was too big of a deal. What did people expect? That just because they were raised together that he wouldn't come to find a perfectly good piece of ass attractive? Of course, he only ever began thinking of him like that when Ike turned nine, because before then he looked too little.

Ever since then, he'd been growing every day, and Kyle had been taking notice. The little faunlet his baby brother was turning into was exciting to say the least. He'd had more than his share of steamy wet dreams over him, and he was certain that Ike was oblivious, which was important. He didn't know if he was comfortable actually having sex with a soon-to-be ten year old boy, whether they loved each other or not. Did he want Ike to hate him? What if he felt like Kyle had molested him, taken advantage of him? He never wanted Ike to distrust him or, even worse, feel violated or traumatized by him.

So, he kept his lust to himself and hoped that he'd be able to keep his hands in the same place.

"Well, you can be sure that we'll show up. You know how much we love you, Ike." Kyle said sweetly, tousling the blackette's hair briefly. Ike gave him a strange look then, a look that said I'm trying not to laugh and I know something you don't at the same time.

"Oh, I sure know all right!" he exclaimed, that mysterious smirk on his face. Kyle laughed nervously.

What did that mean?

"Hey, I'm gonna go now. I don't want to be late to the tryouts."

"'Kay, Ike. I love you."

"I love you, too, Kyle." he said as he leaned over and hugged him, his slim, tanned arms wrapping around him so sweetly before he gathered his hockey gear and walked out the door. Kyle exhaled.

What in the fuck did that mean?!

-/-/-

"Happy Birthday, Ike!"

The newly ten year old Canadian boy feigned shock and surprise as his family and friends jumped out from behind walls and furniture as he walked through the door with his brother and brother's boyfriend in tow. Ike grinned as everyone embraced him and offered celebratory words. Kyle closed the door behind them and threw off his coat, glad to be rid of the unforgiving December cold. Cartman and Ike followed suit and soon they were gossiping and laughing and socializing with everyone else.

A pile of presents, some small, some huge, lay untouched near the door on the dining room table, which had been moved into the livingroom to hold the gifts. A large box of cheesecake and five buckets of cookie dough ice cream accompanied the various other food items and alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages set out on another table set up where the diningroom table had been. Kyle took a plate of cheez-its and cheese cake as well as a watered down glass of vodka and went into Ike's room, where the teens and kids were all gathered, playing games and just hanging out. Ike and Cartman were in the room, Ike sitting on the floor talking to some twelve-year-old girl he knew from school. What was her name again? Cara, Carrie? He couldn't remember at the moment and it didn't really matter. He took a seat next to Cartman on the bed and began snacking on his cheez-its.

"What are you eatin' there, you sexy Jew you?" Cartman slurred, already intoxicated when they hadn't been there more than an hour and a half. Kyle laughed and almost choked on a cheez-it.

"Sounds like you're already thoroughly trashed, sexy." he replied, popping a cheez-it into his boyfriend's open mouth before quaffing from his beverage. He suddenly felt Cartman's bear paws push him down on the bed as he began to straddle him. Kyle nearly spilled his drink and went red in the face.

"Cartman! Get off of me! There's a bunch of little kids in here!" Kyle harshly whispered, pushing at Cartman's hard chest.

Cartman snickered and let him go. Kyle returned to his upright position and looked around the room, humiliated that all of the kids were staring wide-eyed at them. He glanced at Ike, who had a flush to his features and a haze in his eyes. Ike noticed Kyle was looking at him and blushed darker, turning his head away at break-neck speed. Kyle felt dizzy and realized that he needed to put back more than his usual amount of sauce if he was going to get through tonight.

"I'm going to get more booze."

-/-/-

Kyle stumbled through the rest of the night in a drunken blur. He vaguely remembered watching Ike open his presents -a new hockey stick, a book about Canada, some other shit- and singing an off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday!" to him along with everyone else. By the time Cartman had pulled him aside and whispered his intense wants and desires to him, placing his hand on his sizable bulge like he had last time, he was so shit-faced and horny that he could hardly function properly.

Cartman pulled him into his own room and shoved him on the bed, ripping his clothes off and insinuating his tongue down his throat, making little forays and retreats which were explicitly copulatory. He remembered bending over the bed as Cartman reamed him mercilessly, all the while hearing himself scream none too softly "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" as well as the shameless slap of flesh against flesh.

Cartman grabbed his hair, ripping it out as he fucked him with such precision and impeccable technique that it made him want to bawl. He twisted his own erect nipples and savored the taste of sweat on his lips and tongue. Thrust after thrust, hitting his prostrate like a pro, like he was Alexander the Great, he pleasured Kyle in a way that only he could do. Slapped his ass until it turned purple and stung like a hornet sting, gripped his slim waist and used his body as a cum bucket until he climaxed, filling his sore chili ring with load after load of his jizz. He panted and leaned against the wall as he slid out of Kyle and finished on his arched back. Kyle whimpered.

"I didn't cum, Cartman." he reminded him, finding it hard to stand with such an abused ass. When he turned around, he found Eric to be asleep on the floor. Irked, he knew he'd have to bring himself to orgasm.

Unless...

He shook his head. No! He couldn't think like that. He couldn't let himself do something he'd surely regret. To even entertain the thought of gratifying his desires for his little brother would surely cause nothing but ruin for both of them. Especially in this state of mind.

And yet... he couldn't shake the thought that Ike might want him just as much as he does. What was with that comment he made to him a few days ago? And the look he gave him earlier tonight? There was a lust to his face, there was no denying it. Kyle groaned in frustration and unruly sexual denial, his cock still throbbing painfully, his ass still aching and leaking cum, as he tried to struggle into his jeans, realizing it as a failed effort and settling for his t-shirt and boxers as he snuck a sneak peek out his door. It was late, he knew. Maybe eleven or twelve 'o clock. And people were filing out.

He tiptoed down the hall, briefly passing his parents' room where he heard the guttural groans and sighs of copulation, before stopping in front of Ike's door, taking a deep, shaky breath, and placing his hand on the doorknob, slowly turning it and actually flinching when he heard the door click open. He opened the door a little farther and saw that Ike's small body was curled up under the blankets.

He walked inside and carefully shut the door behind him. Ike's room was dark and he could barely make out anything, but, the moonlight from the window cast enough light on Ike so that he could see his features clearly enough to know that he was sucking his thumb as he slept, a gesture normally thought of as simply cute and childlike almost made Kyle cum right then and there.

He could hear the faint sound of Ellie Goulding's falsetto voice as she sang Lights on the radio in the next room over. It felt cool as Kyle slid under Ike's blanket, this tip of his erection grazing the small of the little boy's back, separated only by two flimsy pieces of fabric.

Noises I play within my head

Touch my own skin and hope that I'm still breathing.

And I think back to when my brother of my sister slept

In an unknown place the only time I feel safe

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone

You shine it when I'm alone

And so I tell myself that I'll be strong

And dreaming when they're gone

Kyle felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up straight and he began to tremble. What was he doing here? What was wrong with him? He rested his flushed, hot cheek on Ike's cool pillow, taking in the fact of what he was just about to do. He began to cry and laugh silently, muffling himself with the pillow as he began to remove himself from his sibling's bed.

Until he felt a small hand encircle his wrist, that is.

"Don't leave, Kyle." Ike's clear, concise voice rang out, shaking Kyle to the core. He was awake. Had he been awake the entire time? Had he felt his cock pressing against him? A million thoughts raced through Kyle's brain at once and he thought he was going to vomit, or pass out, or maybe both.

"I-Ike... this isn't what it seems. I just wanted to snuggle with you." Kyle fumbled, "But, I-I didn't want to wake you because you have hockey practice tomorrow." He knew it was weak, but, what does one say when caught in the act of molesting his own brother?

"Kyle, it's ok. I know you want to fuck me. I heard you masturbating a few weeks ago when I came home from school. I heard you scream my name. I'm not mad. I want you to fuck me, Kyle. I want you to pop my ass cherry." Ike told him, sounding so much more grown-up and certain that he ever had before. Kyle shuddered and turned around, gazing down at Ike with renewed horniness. But, he was still hesitant. What if it was a trap? What if he was only trying to get him in trouble?

"You can't tell anyone. Not even Mom and Dad. Not even your little friends. And you have to be sure that you want this. I couldn't deal with you hating me forever over one night of-"

"Kyle, please. Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Ike interrupted him, sounding irritated.

"Ok, Ike. I'll show you the best time of your life." he mumbled as he began to remove his clothes, barely noticing that the song on the radio next door had changed from Lights to We Can't Stop by Miley Cyrus.

It's our party we can do what we want

It's our party we can say what we want

It's our party we can love who we want

We can kiss who we want

We can sing what we want

Red cups and sweaty bodies everywhere

Hands in the air like we don't care

'Cause we came to have so much fun now

Bet somebody here might get some now

The mere sight of Ike's nude form drove Kyle into a frenzy, those pretty pink lips parted so pleasantly, his little pubescent pecker standing straight up at attention, his subtle baby fat on his tummy, his creamy, sun-kissed thighs spread in invitation, his bubble gum pink nipples erect, goose bumps raising his soft flesh as Kyle pushed him a bit roughly onto the mattress, kissing him lovingly and urgently, touching tongue and swapping spit as Ike moaned into his mouth, causing a lovely vibration to reverberate down his throat.

Caressing the sweet child's thighs possessively, he raised Ike's leg and lightly touched his virgin-tight asshole, his anticipation rising every second. He kissed and bit a trail of hickeys down the boy's slender throat before tugging at his nipples with his mouth and slim digits, causing Ike to arch his back and whimper.

"You're so very sensitive, little brother. Do you like your nipples being played with?" Kyle breathed into his ear as he continued to manipulate Ike's small chest with his fingers.

"Mmm-hmm... Oh... Oh!" Ike cried out as Kyle resumed his teasing, sliding his tongue all around his areolas and tweaking his nipples. He bit down slightly on one while harshly twisting the other and Ike squealed in delight.

"Oh, please don't make me wait any longer, Kyle. Fuck me! Fuck me, please!" he rasped, sweat pouring off his temples and underarms, his ebony hair matted with perspiration, his eyes clenched shut, his body trembling with pleasure.

Kyle smirked and leaned down, giving his cock a tiny kiss before positioning his prick in front of Ike's entrance, loving the feel of Ike's legs being locked behind his neck and resting on his shoulders, using the pre-cum leaking from his urethra to lube Ike's anus enough to suffice. Then, very slowly and carefully, he slid himself inside, Ike's mewls and whimpers of pain turning him on even more. As soon as he was fully in, he wiped the sweat from Ike's brow and looked down at him in concern.

"Are you alright, Ike?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Keep going."

"Ok, babe."

Kyle began thrusting himself in and out of Ike, slowly at first, then picking up speed as Ike began enjoying it, which was when he started really ramming him. All that pent-up lust finally unleashing itself full-force as he pumped in and out of him. He wondered momentarily if he was as good as Cartman. But, the beautifully contorted countenance on Ike's face made him think he must not be half bad.

"Fuck me! Harder, harder! Holy shit! You're so good! Faster, harder!" Ike screamed out so loudly that Kyle was afraid that his parents would wake up and hear what was happening. Fuck, that was just what he needed! Not only would he be known as a faggot and a kike, but, also an incestuous child molester. He placed a hand over Ike's mouth as he continued to fuck him.
Not long after that, they both came and Kyle snuck back into his own room, immediately falling asleep.

Needless to say, that wasn't the last time Kyle and his sweet baby brother got busy. And it was their dirty little secret.