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It was nearing that special time of year again, February 14th, Valentines Day. It was that special time where Cupid Me would inevitably act up and Cartman couldn’t stop him. Don’t get him wrong— sometimes he loved to play the role of partner in crime, pairing people up in inconspicuous ways such as locking them into the locker rooms overnight together, but other times he found himself tired of Cupid Me’s enthusiasm. The little cherub constantly wanted to pair people up around Valentine’s Day. It was draining, and frankly Cartman just didn’t have the time.
So, Cartman of course was suspicious when eerily enough, a week before Valentine’s Day, Cupid Me was coming up empty, no new couples roaming the halls or hot new ships he was raving about.
This of course meant that he had to take matters into his own hands. Not by pairing a new couple together— he really was just not in the mood— but by finding out why Cupid Me was acting this way. So, during history, ten minutes before they’d be excused for lunch, Cartman went to the bathroom.
He did a quick check for anyone else and quickly locked the bathroom door behind him after Cupid Me carelessly fluttered in, naively unknowing.
But as soon as Cupid Me heard the lock click, he turned back around to face Cartman, confusion apparent on his face.
He was greeted with the sight of Cartman leaning back against one of the nearby sinks, arms crossed, a clearly confrontational stance, “What are you doing Cupid Me?”
Cupid Me tilted his head to the side, not understanding what Cartman was getting at, “What are you talking about, Eric?”
Playing dumb— it made Cartman scoff. A classic tactic, it may have worked on a lesser man, but Cartman knew better. He sauntered closer to Cupid Me, glaring threateningly, “Don’t play dumb with me, Cupid Me. I know you’re up to something. You’ve been way too quiet this past week. It’s not your usual M.O. What are you planning?”
Cupid Me grew still, the only movement being the flapping of his wings keeping him upright. His eyes grew wide as if he had been shot in the back by one of his own arrows, his lip quivering.
Cartman knew that look— guilt— fear. He caught him! That bastard was up to something!
“N… nothing…” Cupid Me mumbled, glancing away.
Cartman’s eyes narrowed, and he inched closer, grabbing a hold of Cupid Me by the neck, “Don’t lie to me, Cupid Me!”
Cartman began shaking the cherub, watching his head helplessly bobble back and forth as protesting whines escaped him, “S-stop! I’m sorry, Eric! Please stop!”
“Why are you hiding this from me?! I swear to god Cupid Me if you’re—“ He squeezed tighter, a choking noise escaping his Cupid counterpart.
Cupid Me tried his best to shake his head no, just barely able to get out the words, “E-Eric no… please… listen—!”
Despite being skeptical, Cartman relented. He didn’t want to kill Cupid Me, he just wanted him to confess what he was doing. Trembling, Cupid Me hesitantly made eye contact with Cartman, “Have you… considered um… finding love yourself, Eric?”
Cartman glared at him, “Cupid Me, we’ve been over this. I’m not gay and I’m not interested in you and I swear if you try to set me up with a random fat bitch again I’ll actually kill you.”
“Eric… things have changed. We both know how you feel about Kyle now. Come on, let me help you out, teehee!”
“NO!” Cartman yelled, perhaps a bit too loudly. “No.” He repeated again, this time quieter.
“You are not doing jackshit with Kahl, Cupid Me, or so help me—“
“Oh come on, Eric! I just want you to be happy. You already like Kyle. He just needs… a little push!” Cupid Me, began fluttering further away, perhaps anticipating that Cartman would try to lunge for him.
“For the last time, no Cupid Me! I will permanently retire you for fucking life if you do! Do you understand me? You will not set up me and Kyahl!” Cartman slammed his fist into the nearby wall. His palpable anger seemed to beat some sense into Cupid Me’s thick skull because his counterpart reluctantly nodded his head in agreement, face downtrodden.
“Good.” Just as the conversation wrapped up, the lunch bell rang. “Now we’re gonna go to lunch and you’re gonna be fucking normal! Just set up some randos like you always do.”
“Okay, Eric…” Cupid Me sighed, obediently following after Cartman as they exited into the hallway. He eyed the frown etched into his larger counterpart’s expression. Little did Cartman know, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. That was a trait they shared, and he wouldn’t change his mind, even for Cartman.
———
Gleefully, Cartman dug into his bag of Lay chips, popping some in his mouth as others slowly began to roll into the cafeteria. As soon as he started gnawing on one of his chicken tenders, the other boys arrived at the table, each carrying their own food trays— well, other than Kyle. He was carrying a lunch bag since his mom packed him a homemade kosher lunch.
Butters was animatedly rambling to Kenny about the soon-to-be release of Hello Kitty Island Adventures on iOS and Stan was talking to Kyle about some law that had been passed recently that was apparently really bad for the environment.
Soon enough though, Kyle turned his attention towards Cartman. The latter was pleasantly surprised that he didn’t even have to provoke Kyle to receive his attention, though he supposed that had been more common in general lately.
“Did you seriously leave class early so you could be the first in the lunch line?”
Cartman rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “Um no. Way to assume just because I’m fat, Kahl.”
Kyle scoffed, “That’s not why—“
“I just had to blow up the bathroom. No big deal.” Cartman cut him off.
Kyle’s face scrunched and he set his sandwich back down, “Gross dude.”
“Says the kid who used to play with his own shit.” Cartman retorted, fixing him with an unimpressed look.
Irritated, but unable to deny the accusation, Kyle glanced away, “Shut the fuck up.”
Great, that seemed to get Kyle off of his back. Cartman resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief. He expected the conversation to end there, for Kyle to start talking with Stan again, but the latter got distracted catching up with Wendy when she passed by their table, and surely enough Kyle kept chatting with him instead.
“Have you played Tears of the Kingdom yet?” Kyle asked, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand.
“Nah, haven’t found the time yet. Gannon looks pretty sweet though. You?” Cartman hadn’t even bought the game yet, but Kyle didn’t need to know that.
“Dude, you have to check it out. It’s so cool. I started playing just yesterday and it’s been so fun. I really like the crafting system. Do you wanna come over and play a little tomorrow?”
“What? Me? Why?” Cartman asked, perplexed at the invitation.
“I need to talk to someone about it and Kenny never played Breath of the Wild so it’s not like he knows anything about it and Stan’s apparently too busy grinding on his gacha games for some stupid character cards to play literally anything else.” Kyle bemoaned.
That made more sense. He was the last option, of course. At least Kyle didn’t ask Butters first. Guess that meant he wasn’t technically last.
“Fuck it, why not. Sure.” Cartman nodded. He liked hanging out with Kyle. It was a fact he had slowly come to accept. He just still wasn’t used to Kyle actually going out of the way to hang out with him.
Kyle started talking again but Cartman’s attention became divided as he heard a sweet little whisper in his right ear, “Teeheehee… don’t worry, Eric. I can see what your heart really wants.”
Petrified, Cartman turned his head to stare at the small creature. Before he could protest or reach up and stop him, Cupid Me flitted over to Kyle’s side of the table. In his little hands was a small potion bottom, a pink-colored liquid sloshing inside. Cartman watched in horror as he uncapped it, readying to pour it out, but Cartman impulsively swiped at his cupid counterpart, uncaring of how he may appear to others. He knew what that had to be: a love potion.
Immediately, Kyle was confused and irritated, leaning back in his seat, “Dude, what the fuck?”
“Fly! There’s a fly! And I’m gonna fucking get it!” Cartman came up with a random excuse, simultaneously threatening Cupid Me in the same instance. Now the other boys at the table were staring, as well as a couple of others from neighboring tables, but Cartman paid it no mind. Kyle can’t drink a love potion. He can’t. It would ruin everything.
Cartman kept swiping at the air, keeping the area above Kyle’s food and drink occupied so Cupid Me couldn’t sweep in and pour any of the pesky potion over them. But then, as Kyle leaned further back, mouth agape in confusion, Cupid Me did the unexpected. He flew right in front of Kyle’s face and poured the love potion into Kyle’s open mouth. All Cartman could do was watch in horror. Instinctively he reached forward and began swatting at Kyle’s mouth, trying to get him to spit out the pink liquid, but it was too late.
Kyle, unaware of the events transpiring and the fact that Cartman was actually trying to save him, glared, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“The fly! It flew into your mouth!”
Kyle opened and closed his mouth, feeling around it for a second. “No the fuck it didn’t!”
He couldn’t believe it. Kyle drank the love potion. It was all over. His face grew pale as he slowly backed into his own seat.
“Seriously, what is your problem right now?”
Kyle drank the love potion… and he was staring right at Cartman. That meant he was gonna… he was gonna end up falling in love with…
Against his will, before he could even process it, Cartman began hurling, chunks of his lunch splattering on his lunch tray and then to the side of his table after he realized what was happening.
“Cartman?!”
———
Cartman closed the passenger-side door behind him with an audible thud after shuffling into his mom’s car. Liane sat in the driver seat, spending a second rummaging through her purse before inserting the keys into the ignition.
She snuck a worried glance over at him, through her mouth was pulled in a taut line, “Are you alright, poopsikins? Did you eat anything that would’ve upset your stomach?”
“Fuck off.” Cartman snapped. He didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to pretend this entire ordeal didn’t happen in the short time span he’d be able to. He didn’t have very long to deny it. At most, he’d probably be able to avoid seeing Kyle for a week. He wouldn’t be able to convince his mom to leave him out of school for any longer than that though. She had changed over the years– she was never the same towards him after the hot dog house ordeal.
Liane’s features hardened and she glanced back towards the road, “That’s no way to talk to your mother, Eric. I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah well I don’t need your fucking help.” He sunk further into his seat, crossing his arms and glancing out the window. Idly, he watched the houses pass by. He still felt sick.
“Clearly…” She scoffed, muttering under her breath.
The light turned red, causing the car to stall. Cartman sighed, making quite the effort to bite his tongue. The rest of the ride home was driven in silence.
Once they got back, she handed him a glass of water and a bottle of Tums. They were far past the days of her babying him, and somewhat bitterly he reminisced when she would’ve been coddling him, tucking him into bed and fixing him up chicken soup.
It sort of just felt like she didn’t care anymore— like she had realized the two of them could never be friends— not the kind she was looking for anyways. And after that realization, the well of sickly sweet love dried up. At least she still called him poopsikins sometimes, but Cartman wasn't sure whether he loved or hated that.
This feeling was only reinforced as she left as fast as she came, grabbing a different purse from her room and sliding on a pair of high heels. Cartman recognized the large faux-leather purse— it was her work purse— the one she usually took out with her when she had a client.
He couldn’t help but make a comment, “Seriously? Already? It’s only like,” he paused to check his phone, “two p.m.”
“I have errands to run.” She deflected.
He resisted the urge to scoff, “Errands my ass…” he mumbled under his breath.
From the perturbed pinch of her lips, she clearly heard him, but she refrained from making her own response, and she simply waved him goodbye before exiting the house.
Great, he was finally alone. Definitely exactly what he wanted right now. He was quick to scurry into his room, huddle up under his blankets, and start browsing for a bad movie to watch as a distraction.
He’d rather be chewing Cupid Me out and maybe murdering the little cherub if he was being honest, but Cupid Me was nowhere to be seen. So, he bided his time, watching a comically bad movie, “Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter,” on his computer.
Half-way into the movie, he spotted movement in the corner of his eyes. Cartman turned, only to come face-to-face with Cupid Me. He looked somewhat apologetic, glancing downward and rubbing his hands together. Too bad apologetic wasn’t enough to make up for a fuck-up of such an astronomical degree.
Before Cupid Me could even utter a word, Cartman lurched forward, hands wrapping around his throat. “What the fuck were you thinking?!”
“E-Eric–! Please! I was just trying to help!” The little devil disguised as an angel cried out, coughing.
“You fucking liar! You’ve ruined everything! You’ve ruined fucking everything!” He screamed, throwing Cupid Me against the bed.
Sputtering, Cupid Me scrambled back, accidentally getting tangled in the sheets, “I was just trying to help! Don’t you want Kyle to like you?! He loves you now!”
“No he fucking DOESN’T!” Cartman screamed, getting up in Cupid Me’s face as he lunged at him again, pushing his cupid counterpart further into the mattress.
“Y-yes, he does, Eric! The love potion worked. I know it did! Calm dow–”
Cartman tightened his grip around Cupid Me’s throat, cutting off the smaller creature’s airway, his own face red as he heaved labored breaths. “That’s the fucking problem! I knew he’d never like me back– I fucking knew it! But I still thought maybe there was a small chance– and you just had to fucking ruin that!”
Cupid Me was desperately gasping for air, struggling to formulate a response when he couldn’t even get any words out past Cartman’s rough grip constricting his airway. His small hands clawed at Cartman’s own, and something about how small and helpless he looked inspired a small ounce of sympathy in Cartman, and hesitantly, he found his own grip loosening.
Relieved, Cupid Me inhaled a deep breath, Cartman’s own heaving breaths in sync with his. “I… I’m sorry, Eric. I- I don’t understand…”
“He’ll never actually fucking love me. That’s not Kyle. It’s not real if you fucking make him. The real Kyle would never… he would never…” A droplet of water rolled down Cartman’s cheek, landing on his pajama pants, more following. Surprised, Cartman held a shaky hand under his eyes, feeling tears streaming down.
“Eric… It’s okay. He will now–”
“WHY DON’T YOU GET IT?! It’s not fucking real! I just wanted him to like me for real! Now he’ll never have the fucking chance! My chances were already low– now it’s buttfucking impossible and it’s all your fault!”
Tears still rolling down his face, Cartman lunged forward once more, intending to finish the job, but after several minutes all he could bring himself to do was make his cupid counterpart lose consciousness, and shortly after he shoved him in a box, duct-taping it shut. It was a reasonable punishment. He had just ruined Cartman’s life after all.
Exhausted, Cartman shoved the box in his closet and settled back into bed, wiping at his puffy reddened eyes. He glanced back towards the movie playing on his computer– he had missed a good fifteen minutes of it, busy arguing with Cupid Me. He scrolled back, stopping at the last part he remembered and letting it play again.
A couple of minutes in, he heard a knock at the front door. He checked the time, 3:30 pm. It probably wasn’t his mom, and considering school was over that only left a couple of plausible options. Cartman checked the notifications on his phone, seeing several messages from the group chat with Kenny, Stan, and Kyle each voicing their concerns in their own ways. The latest message was sent just then from Kyle. It read: “Let us the fuck in, fatass. We have your homework from today.”
Cartman didn’t have to look at himself to know it was apparent he had been crying. He decided to ghost them. Boo fucking hoo. It’s not like he wanted his homework anyways. The knocking continued and Cartman adamantly ignored it. He would just pretend he was asleep. The lights in his room weren’t on anyways. He closed his computer temporarily and lied down, hoping it would aid in the illusion of him being asleep.
His phone lit up, more notifications appearing on the lock screen. It was just Kyle screaming at him, and soon enough there was an incoming call. Oh god, were these the side effects of the potion? Why was Kyle being so persistent? Cartman flipped his phone face-down on the bed so he wouldn’t have to look at the notifications anymore.
He closed his eyes, waiting a few minutes. However, his eyes abruptly shot open at the sound of his bedroom window opening. He sat up, alarmed, and found Kyle clambering inside, several sheets of paper in hand and an irritated look on his face.
“Thanks for ignoring us, fatass. Here’s your homework. I’m not lugging it around for however long you plan on skipping school for this.” Kyle briskly walked across the room, setting the papers on Cartman’s desk.
Cartman peered at him in the dimly lit room with a scrutinizing glare, trying to spot any unusual behavior in Kyle. Maybe the love potion didn’t work. He was hoping it hadn’t at least. Noticing his stare, Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay? Like actually? I wasn’t expecting you to just throw up out of nowhere.”
Oh no. Genuine concern from Kyle. Maybe it really had worked. Maybe he could get Kyle to leave by getting on his nerves? That usually worked. Pale, Cartman nodded, “Yes! I’m fine! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to enjoy my sickly beauty sleep without a dirty jew getting in the way!”
“Don’t belittle my people, fatass!” An instant wave of relief washed over Cartman.
“Hold on–” Dread took its place as Kyle stepped closer, eyes fixated on Cartman’s neck. Oh my god. Was he about to jump him like some feral animal and start sucking on his neck? This was all Cupid Me’s fault. Oh jesus fuck. Panic was starting to seep in, but Kyle just narrowed his eyes, “What the fuck? Cartman, why are there bruises around your neck?”
“Huh?” Confused, Cartman jumped out of bed, running to the small mirror that hung next to his desk, and flicking on his desk lamp to see better. Kyle wasn’t lying. There was in fact bruises. That was weird– he had been the one choking Cupid Me– not the other way around. “Oh shit. Uhhh… I don’t know dude. That’s really fucking weird.”
He turned around to face Kyle, shrugging. Kyle was actively scrutinizing him, looking him up and down– oh my god, what if he was checking him out? He was totally checking him out. Cartman was going to be sick again. “Are you sure you’re good? Where’s your mom?”
“Out.” Cartman responded simply, cautiously regarding the now infatuated ginger. He wasn’t acting all that infatuated, but he refused to let his guard down.
“Oh… have you been able to eat anything?” Kyle pried.
“Haven’t tried yet.” Cartman replied in a clipped tone, careful not to turn his back to Kyle as he settled back into bed. “Are you done now?”
Irritated, Kyle glared, “I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah, well that’s not working out very well, now is it?” Cartman bit, relief ballooning up in his chest more and more as he watched Kyle’s nose scrunch up, a frustrated furrow settling on his browline.
Kyle turned back to the window, ready to leave, “Nothing ever really works out well with you, yet we’re still here anyways, aren’t we?”
“The fuck does that mean? Get the hell out dude.”
“If you insist.” Kyle shrugged, stepping out with one final glance back at Cartman.
Once he was out of sight, Cartman finally relaxed, re-opening his computer to finish watching the rest of “Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter.”
By the time the movie ended, Cartman had finally let his guard down, but of course, Kyle came clambering through the window, limbs awkwardly sprawled out with a plastic bag hanging from the crevice of his right elbow and a backpack hanging off of his left shoulder.
“KAHL! What are you doing–?” The plastic bag is suddenly thrown at him. Instinctively, Cartman catches it, preventing it from thumping right against his own face. “Ay! The hell is this?”
“Maybe you’d find out if– I don’t know– you actually looked through the bag?” Kyle retorted, unamused.
“Fuck you.” Cartman mumbled, but he opened the bag anyways. Inside it was two six-pack of applesauce cups. “Why the hell are you giving me applesauce? That’s gay.”
“It helps settle the stomach, dumbass. You need to eat something.”
“I don’t– What are you doing?” Cartman asked, confused as Kyle took a seat on the unoccupied side of Cartman’s bed. Kyle didn’t answer him, instead choosing to rummage through his backpack for a second.
After a second, he pulled out his switch, handing it to Cartman. “Here.”
“...We were supposed to play tomorrow.”
Kyle rolled his eyes, “And you’re sick and your mom isn’t home. It’s good to have someone home when you’re not feeling well. What if you pass out or something or throw up in your sleep? It’s not safe.”
“...You’re here just because I’m sick?”
Holy fuck. Cartman was going to be sick for fucking sure now. That sounded really gay. Maybe the love potion really did work. Why was Kyle being so nice to him?
“Did your mom even check your temperature?” Kyle asked, watching the sweat bead up near Cartman’s hairline.
“No.” Cartman shook his head, “All I did was throw up.”
“You should check your temperature anytime something’s wrong. A fever could be indicative of a bigger problem and it’s better to check than not.”
Huh, Cartman didn’t know that. Even when he was sick, his mom didn’t really check his temperature all that often. She mostly just tucked him in, made him soups, and spoiled him with whatever he wanted even more than usual.
Still, Cartman shook his head. “I’m fine, seriously. You’re such a gaywad.”
Kyle rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “You’re so fucking immature. Do you even have a thermometer?”
Cartman shrugged noncommittally, glancing down at Kyle’s powered down switch and clicking the button to turn it on.
His gaze was suddenly torn away from it, unable to help his eyes from automatically darting back to Kyle as soon as he felt a hand on his forehead. “Not the most effective way to tell, but you do feel a little warm.”
Red exploded on Cartman’s face. Of course he felt fucking warm! Kyle was touching his face– what the fuck?
Cartman jolted back, dragging Kyle’s hand off of his face. “If it’s not effective then don’t bother.”
Kyle glared, “I’m not your fucking mom. I don’t have to be sitting here doing this. Just let me help you.”
Cartman didn’t want this. He didn’t want Kyle caring for him just because of some stupid love potion, but Kyle’s hand had admittedly felt nice against his forehead. Maybe just for tonight he could pretend this really was Kyle and not some foreign substance that had creeped into his system, clouding his better judgment and hijacking his natural reactions to Cartman’s disgusting self.
He could pretend just for a little. It would certainly make this more bearable. Then, tomorrow, he could start cutting off Kyle forever– somehow. Maybe he’d orchestrate a way to get Kyle’s family to move. It couldn’t be that hard considering how easily Kyle’s father decided to up and go to San Francisco years ago.
With a sigh, Cartman leaned closer to Kyle, and the latter took it as a sign of permission. With the back of his hand, he felt the sides and back of Cartman’s neck. Cartman refrained from leaning deeper into the touches. For a second, Kyle’s hand lingered near the front of Cartman’s neck, where those unusual bruises were. Seemingly catching himself wandering, Kyle pulled away, a contemplative look on his face. “Hmm well you do feel kinda warm. I don’t think it’s a fever but you should be careful, dude.”
“Oh yeah, cause I can just control my body temperature on command. How did I never think of that, Kyahl?” Cartman retorted sarcastically, opening up Tears of the Kingdom.
“Shut the fuck up.” Kyle elbowed him lightly in the side, “You get what I meant, smartass.”
Cartman chuckled, watching the opening screen load in. Kyle paused, “Hold on– let me get the opening cutscene off of Youtube so you have some context at least.”
“Wow, won’t even restart the game for me, huh?”
“I can’t and won't do that. Fuck you.”
They spent a second watching the cutscene, Kyle hovering near Cartman’s shoulder as he held up the phone in front of them, a movement Cartman was hyper-aware of.
Once he got into the game, he was definitely having fun, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how close Kyle was to him as they squished up together on his full-size bed. Soon enough, seemingly tired of holding up his own head, Kyle used Cartman’s shoulder as a perch as he watched him play the game– which of course happened at the worst time because Cartman was so momentarily distracted he didn’t realize he ran straight into a lynel.
“Oh fuck–!” Before he could even react, the lynel cut him down. The one hit kill sent Kyle into a fit of wheezes, and he beat at Cartman’s arm with his hand as cackles escaped him– asshole.
The save reloaded and Cartman, instead of walking straight into the beast, carefully sidestepped it, remaining out of its sight. He was just gonna chill and scavenge for some shit for a second, but then he saw a huge ass hole and he just had to jump in. So, he did, and immediately he was greeted with hands clawing at him from hell. “Those little monsters don’t stand a fucking chance– Oh fuck– they’re fast–” Cartman struggled, trying to pry Link out of the hands vice grip, but each time he managed to struggle out, another grabbed him, quickly depleting the hero’s health, and soon enough it reached zero.
“Oh what the hell! RIGGED! Fucking rigged!” Cartman insisted.
Kyle laughed at his misery, nearly burying his face in Cartman’s shoulder to stifle his laughter. “It’s not rigged, dumbass. That’s what happens when you’re cocky.”
“If you’re gonna sit there with that fat fucking smirk on your face, then let’s see you try, KAHL!” Cartman shoved the console into Kyle’s hands, expecting to be met with at least some level of fear, but the redhead was simply smirking at him. Huh. He could actually see all of Kyle’s red hair. He didn’t have his ushanka on. It was an uncommon sight, but he hadn’t really been thinking about it earlier. Strands of voluminous, tightly-packed curls hung in front of Kyle’s forehead and Cartman was tempted to reach over and run his hand through the exposed locks (Though he was doubtful his hands would smoothly go through them at all, they’d probably get stuck at some point, causing Kyle pain. The thought made him chuckle a little.) but he refrained.
It would be fine since they were pretending– that was his justification to himself as he stole Kyle’s previous position, perching his chin on Kyle’s shoulder to watch him play the game. Immediately, Kyle whipped out Link’s bow and loaded an arrow up with some flower item and once he shot it out, it exploded as soon as it made contact with one of the hands. “Woah…”
Kyle started to do the same for each hand, but after a little Cartman found himself watching Kyle’s expressions more than he was watching the actual game. He watched the way his freckles danced when he grinned, the way his smile pulled taught at the corner of his eyes, the way his nose scrunched when he laughed victoriously after having defeated the creature. “Ha! Take that! Shit, that was my first time ever beating one!”
“That was fucking sweet!” Cartman enthused. Kyle’s joy was somewhat contagious, and it was admittedly pretty sweet. His eyes were still diligently trained on Kyle’s face.
Out of imminent danger, Kyle finally glanced away from the screen and over towards Cartman, hazel green eyes meeting mismatched periwinkle and caramel. He must’ve seen something special in Cartman’s expression, because he stared back, eyes roaming the entirety of the brunette’s face. Cartman was doing much the same, and he couldn’t help the way his glance kept returning to Kyle’s lips.
“Cartman…?”
This would be his only chance to kiss Kyle. He would avoid him every day after this until he could find a way to get rid of him. He couldn’t stop Cupid Me from changing Kyle, but he could roll with it for just tonight; take advantage of the oversight.
Heart trembling in his chest, he shifted off of Kyle’s shoulder and leaned in closer, one hand coming up to cup Kyle’s cheek. Eyes wide, Kyle was still, watching him approach. Maybe he didn’t want this? Did the potion not–
As Cartman sat there, thinking, Kyle seemingly grew impatient, expression growing pinched until he leaned in closer, pulling in Cartman by the waist, and pressing a sweet kiss against Cartman’s lips.
His eyes fluttered shut, and he revered the softness of the kiss. Despite Kyle’s lips being chapped, there was something soft about it– some underlying sweetness as Kyle gently pulled him closer. Cartman didn’t really associate Kyle with “gentleness.” Whenever he fantasized about a moment like this, it was always aggressive and harsh, occurring in the heat of a fight when for a split second Kyle’s brain mistook the rush of adrenaline with a thirst for something more. But he enjoyed the gentle kiss, it felt nice– warm. It was very different from any other kisses Cartman had experienced. Kyle wasn’t being invasive, or pushy, or demanding, and as much as Cartman fantasized about it, he regarded that maybe that was a good thing. He wasn’t sure if he could take that right now.
What he did know was that he felt safe, and he wanted to feel like this forever. Maybe in the future, they could delve into more, but– Cartman cut his own thoughts off. There wouldn’t be a future. This wasn’t Kyle. That love potion had infected him– clouding his better judgment. He would never do this. Gasping, Cartman began pulling back. Oh god, he was basically molesting Kyle right now. What was wrong with him?
In the same instance, Kyle also pulled back, hearing Link scream in pain. “Oh shit!” He scrambled for the console, trying to run away from whatever monster was chasing him, as Cartman sat there, blankly staring forward.
How could he do this to him? In the past, he had let many grave events befall Kyle. But this… this was unforgivable. It didn’t matter if Kyle acted like he wanted the kiss, that wasn’t his actual call. He had ruined him. He ruined Kyle. There had to be some way to reverse the potion still.
Kyle paused the game, tossing it off to the side. He turned back towards Cartman, blushing. “So that was…”
In a panic, Cartman settled on a solution, on the most likely way to snap Kyle out of this. Blindly, he swung at him, Kyle just barely managing to lean back in time to not get hit. Anger immediately blossomed on Kyle’s face, “What the fuck?!”
If he could just get a hit on him, maybe that would change Kyle’s perception. Surely, a potion wouldn’t let someone love someone who had just hurt them. That had to trigger some defense mechanism in the primal part of the brain– snap Kyle back to his senses.
He didn’t respond, instead choosing to clamber onto his knees and swing at Kyle again.
“What’s your fucking problem?!” Kyle dodged to the side again, his balance off kilter.
Panicked, heavy breaths wrecked Cartman’s body. He finally managed to land a hit on Kyle’s side, causing Kyle to fall off the bed, “Fuck!”
Cartman got up off of the bed, intending to do worse, but Kyle lunged at him. Cartman screamed in protest as Kyle knocked him to the floor, pinning him down and restraining his arms, “Answer me! What the fuck is your problem?! You’ve been so weird this entire day. First, you chase some nonexistent fly, then you throw up, and then you fucking kiss me and attack me right after?! What the fuck is going on?!”
Cartman stared up at Kyle, panting, out of breath, “Fuck… you…”
Kyle’s grip tightened, “Will you just give me a straight fucking answer? Stop… stop fucking with me. Seriously, why did you even kiss me if you’re going to attack me right after?”
“You’re the one who kissed me, fag.” Cartman deflected.
“Because you clearly were going to before you pussied out.” Kyle retorted.
Cartman glanced away, staring at the foot of his bed. Might as well be blunt, “Kahl, you don’t like me.”
“Huh? Yeah, of course I don’t. You’re an asshole.” Kyle rolled his eyes.
Cartman gaped at him, “You know what I fucking mean! You kissed me for a reason, Kahl, and that reason is you think you like me, but you fucking don’t, okay?”
“Why do you think that?” Kyle asked, visibly perturbed.
“...At lunch– at lunch there was a love potion shoved down your throat. Just hear me out. Don’t look at me like that. I know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me! There’s this little cupid nobody else can see and he goes around every February trying to pair people together– usually I work with him, but this time he targeted you. I was trying to stop him, but he… he succeeded… and you were looking at me while you drank it. You don’t actually like me, Kahl. It’s just the love potion lying to you.”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed, and narrowed even more, and then narrowed to the point that Cartman almost thought he had closed his eyes, “Are you off your meds right now?”
Cartman gaped at him, “Um… yeah. How did you guess that?”
Unamused, Kyle stared at him, shaking his head, “I wonder. It was pretty hard to guess.”
Cartman rolled his eyes at Kyle’s sarcasm. Kyle released his hold on Cartman’s wrists, getting up off of Cartman and standing, “Where are they? You should take them.”
“I don’t know.” Cartman shrugged, “My mom took them away yesterday after we got into an argument. Said I needed “a healthy dose of reality for once.” Bitch.”
Alarmed, Kyle’s gaze whipped back towards him, “What the fuck? Actually?”
“Yeah, it’s whatever. I don’t need them anyways.” Cartman reasoned.
“Yes the fuck you do. She’s not home, right? Let’s go get them.” Kyle approached Cartman’s bedroom door.
“She’ll notice if we take them.” Cartman supplied, staying seated on the floor.
“And since when did you care about that shit? You’re Eric Cartman, you do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Holy shit, you’re right.” Cartman gaped at him, like it was some big realization dawning on him. He got up off of the floor, joining Kyle as they started rummaging through his mom’s room. Naturally, they stumbled upon a fair share of sex toys, but after enough digging, they found Cartman’s risperdal.
They took it back to Cartman’s room and Kyle kept playing Tears of the Kingdom as Cartman ate a cup of applesauce and then took a tablet, mumbling about how he was supposed to take it at a specific time, but it was whatever.
Once he was done, Kyle handed the switch back to him. Cartman was confused by the gesture. “So like… aren’t you going to kick my ass now or something?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Um, because I took advantage of you knowing that you were under the influence of a love potion?” Cartman stared at him, perplexed.
“Dude.”
“Oh jeez, you’re really just chill with that? Shit, I guess people are right when they say love is blind…” Cartman grimaced.
“There wasn’t a love potion, Cartman. Even if there hypothetically was, I assure you I unfortunately liked you even before today.” Kyle casually confessed, reaching over and pausing the game since Cartman was distracted and he didn’t want them to die again.
“Seriously?” Cartman gaped at him, “You’re fucking lying to me right now.”
“No the fuck I’m not. Now play the game, fatass. You’ve barely even done anything.”
“Fuck you, I do what I want.” Cartman smirked, shaking his head. After a moment, he relented, “And what I want is to play the game, but fuck you still.”
Fondly, Kyle shook his head. What a dumbass.