Work Text:
‘wyd jew xx’
‘Cartman it’s 2am. im sleeping.’
‘obvi not cus you answered
can we call’
‘no. I have to be up super early.’
‘please?’
‘fine. but make it quick.’
The phone buzzed on his end table and Kyle rolled over, snatching it up. He clicked it on. “Cartman?”
“Kyle.”
“What’s up, man?” Kyle asked, voice low. His room was dark, and it felt risky to speak loudly in the middle of night, despite knowing it was doubtful that Ike or his parents would hear him through the walls all the way in their rooms.
“I can’t sleep.” Cartman yawned into the phone and Kyle rolled his eyes.
“Clearly.” Kyle shifted onto his side, resting the phone in his open palm. He hit the speaker, turning the volume down to a whisper. “What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Nothing.” He could hear Eric shifting on the other end. Kyle snorted.
“Then why call?” He tugged his blanket higher onto his body, tucking the edge under his chin.
“Cause you’re my boyfriend and it’s your civil duty to suffer with me. Duh.” Cartman snorted. Kyle groaned.
“Eric- I have shit to do tomorrow.”
“Stan will live if you’re late to the nerd convention. I’ll never fuck you again if you hang up.” Cartman chirped.
“You’re such an asshole; it’s not a nerd convention. Star Trek is one of the most popular sci-fi franchises in history. Lots of people like it. It pushed social boundaries and-“
“I like that one guy with the two dicks.”
“Are you listening to me?” Kyle pressed his lips together.
“I always listen, Kahl! Is there, or is there not, a Star Trek alien with two dicks?” He could hear Cartman’s grin.
“….Klingons. Worf is probably who you’re thinking of. Stan’s going as him tomorrow.” Kyle shook his head slightly, dropping himself back onto his pillow. “Technically they never said two dicks. Just that Klingons have two of each set of genitalia, so…”
“So two dicks.” Eric yawned again. A little squeak on the edge.
“Yes, baby.” Kyle murmured. “Two dicks. Did you try warm milk?”
“My ma isn’t home.”
“So? You can make it yourself.” He pointed out. The other line went quiet for a moment.
“It doesn’t work the same if I do it by myself.” Cartman admitted. Kyle’s heart skipped a beat at the small, soft tone. Oh. One of those nights, then. Kyle’s lips parted, a soft breath escaping, and he sat up straight in his bed.
“You could put me on FaceTime. Could tell you how.” Eric went quiet again, clearly mulling over it.
“Okay.”
Kyle scooted back against his head board, and settled his phone against his propped knees. Should he put a shirt on? He glanced over at the pile of dirty clothes next to the edge of his bed, but before he could make a decision, the video feed started. Cartman filled the screen, all hazy eyes and the pajama set Kyle bought him for Halloween.
Little pumpkins all over the pants, a large bat across the front. Cute. “Hi.” Cartman murmured, and Kyle beamed at him, open and encouraging.
“Hi sweetie.” Kyle watched Eric play with the edge of his shirt. “They fit well?”
“Yeah.” Cartman nodded. “You didn’t forget to the cut the tags off.” He titled his head to one side.
“No, I didn’t.” A long stretch where Eric sat, watching him. Kyle hummed. “Let’s go make some warm milk. Pick me up.” Eric did.
He guided him down into the kitchen, instructing Cartman as he warmed himself a mug of milk. “Test the temperature.” He watched as Cartman dipped the tip of his pinkie. “Good?” Cartman nodded. Cartman shifted his weight, glancing down on the camera. “Yes, baby?”
“Can I have sparkles?” He asked.
Kyle melted. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. We put them in the cabinet where your ma keeps the spices, remember?” Eric nodded, stepping over to pull down the bottle. An assortment of blue and gold star sprinkles. Cartman shook them into his cup. He looked back up at Kyle.
“More?”
“No. That should be enough. Defeats the purpose if it’s got too much sugar.” He watched Cartman clean up, and then he headed back up the stairs.
Once settled into bed, Eric brought the mug to his mouth. Small, slow sips. Kyle sighed happily, watching as Cartman self soothed, rubbing his free hand over his own sternum.
“That help, sweetheart?”
“Yeah.” Eric nodded. Another sip.
“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” He kept his voice gentle. Kyle was filled with cotton. He always was, when seeing Eric like this. His insides felt plush and easy to needle into. He never thought he was the kind of person who…. But Eric was always an exception to everything. Everything. “You don’t have to, of course. You can just be little for a while, and then get some sleep.”
Cartman’s fingers tightened subtly on the mug. Then they loosened and he tilted his head to one side. “Bad dreams. About the farm.” His uncle’s. One summer when they were kids, Liane’s attempt at introducing strong, responsible male influence. A fucking nightmare that turned out to be.
Kyle was all the responsible male influence that Eric needed. “I’m sorry, baby. You’re safe now. You know that, don’t you?”
Eric seemed to hesitate, but gave a quick nod.
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he added. “Take another sip.” Eric complied.
“Kyle?” Eric murmured around the lip of the mug.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Sometimes I-“ He drew in a ragged breath. “Sometimes I wake up and I’m scared but I’m,” His cheeks puffed out slightly.
“Slow down. You can tell me.”
“I’m- it feels…” Eric pushed his knees together, wiggling slightly. Oh. Okay. Kyle frowned.
“Because of…?”
“Yes.” Shame seeped from the word, Eric averting his eyes from the screen. Kyle thought about it for a moment before he spoke. He’d read about it, before, shortly after they started this dynamic. It’s not an uncommon experience. Eroticizing your own trauma was an effective way of softening the experience so it was easier to function with the pain. Kyle knew that, intellectually.
Still, it took a moment. Kyle’s instinctual response was anger. Anger that it had happened, anger that nobody knew or noticed except a bunch of kids who were ill-equipped to deal with it, anger that every adult in South Park seemed to be asleep at the wheel. His stomach dropped at the thought of it. It always did.
But then he focused and Eric still sitting in his bed, holding his cup of milk, so hurt and so-
He needed him. Kyle would always-
“It’s okay, honey.” He murmured. “Just body stuff. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Eric’s face twitched slightly, and Kyle noticed the misted eyes. Of course, he did. He noticed everything. “I promise you haven’t.”
“I’m fucking gross, dude.” Eric’s body was wound tight, the edges of a panic attack pressing into him.
“No cussing.” Kyle said, sharply, and watched the command land. The tension drained immediately from Cartman’s body. “You’re not gross. Take it back.”
Eric’s mouth opened and closed, the mug tilting slightly in his hands.
“Put your milk on the end table, Eric.” Eric followed the instruction, blinking rapidly. “Are you with me?” He asked.
“I’m…with you.” Eric nodded.
“Good boy. Keep your shoulders relaxed, sweetie. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Kyle reiterated, his voice firm. “Now take it back.”
“I take it back.” He agreed, one wobbly tear making its way down his cheek.
“It’s normal, baby. Just body stuff. Say it.” Kyle watched him carefully.
“Just body stuff.” Eric whispered, and Kyle shifted the phone slightly.
“Your body is good at protecting you. Making it feel better. That’s all that’s happening.” Kyle told him softly. “You’re really impressive, you know. Most people wouldn’t be able to be half as well adjusted as you. And that’s because of your body, in part. That resolve is manifested emotionally and physically. It makes me proud of you. And I,” Kyle swallowed. “I’m always going to give you what you need.”
Eric nodded, swallowing, shifting against the headboard. “Okay.”
“So tell me. What do you need?”
“I wanna touch.” Eric fought back the swell of shame, and Kyle noted with delight when he won the struggle, keeping himself loose. Relaxed. Just as he’d been told.
“Tug your pajamas down, baby.” Kyle smothered a whimper of his own when Cartman’s cock bobbed free, the cute pink tip dripping. “Oh, pretty boy. You miss me?”
“Always.” Eric shivered, his hands resting on his thighs.
“Wrap one hand around. Be gentle, honey. And stroke it nice and slow for me.” Kyle murmured. Eric wrapped his hand around himself, moving it up and down gently. His thighs tightened and he squirmed, little pearls welling. Kyle’s cock twitched at the sight.
Eric whined, his hips twitching as he tucked up into his hand, balls tightening. “Daddy?” He whimpered.
Kyle shuddered hard. “Play with the tip, like how I do.” He kept his hands at his sides, ignoring his own arousal. Not what he needs. Keep it safe. Keep him safe. An easy sacrifice to make. Not even a sacrifice, a privilege, really.
Eric nodded hard, twisting his fingers around his cock, panting, “Daddy, when?” He asked, kicking one of his feet uselessly against the bed. “Now?”
“I trust you, honey.” Kyle cooed. “Cum whenever feels good, baby. Whenever.” Eric cried out, body stiffening as he bent at the waist. Ropes of cum shooting over his hand. “Oh, that’s good. You’re so good.” Kyle encouraged, as Eric stroked himself through it. “My baby.”
Eric went slack, dropping his head back against the headboard. “Daddy…”
“I’m still here, honey. I love watching you so much.” He smiled. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”
“M’sleepy, daddy.” Eric murmured.
“Okay, honey. Pull your pants up for me, and you can go to sleep.” He watched Eric shift. The phone dropped briefly, and when Eric picked it up again, he was lying on his side.
“Stay on with me, while I sleep?” Eric yawned. Kyle nodded, turning over so he could prop his up on his end table.
“Yeah, honey. I’ll stay on. Sweet dreams.”