South Park: Thought To Be Opposites [BoyxBoy]

#ChapterEleven

[Cartman's POV]

    After waking up with a hangover, breaking up a fight between Stan and Token and stumbling over a rock and landing face first in the pavement, I'm glad to be home.

    I'm not even sure if last night was worth it or not, because I don't remember shit. I remember drinking a lot of beer, after that... nothing.

    I'm on the couch, waiting for a reply from Stan. He's all bruised up now, and I feel kind of bad. Nobody knows that he's in this state, except for his mom, Token and I.

    I rub the corners of my eyes to rid the blur that is present. Finding no difference in my sight being clear, I grimace and give up. It's like looking through my grandmother's glasses.

    My phone vibrates and I squint to read the message.

Stan Marsh: 

          -okay, fine. u and the others can come over, but dont bring up the fight. i already tried my hardest to cover up the bruises with my moms makeup.

   I grin and text Kyle and Kenny.

    -meet us at stans house as soon as you can... no rush

   I grab a bag, pack a spare pair of clothes and walk out the door. My mother is out of town anyway.

--

   "Hey, Cartman." He greets, closing the door behind me.

    The boy looks like he has been frosted with foundation. It somewhat covers up the mess, but it's obvious that something is up.

    "Hi." I sigh and dump my string backback on his couch. "You okay?"

    He nods and swallows hard. His fingertips run along the line of dark swelling that is visible through the cover-up. "It hurts to move."

    I cringe. For the first time in a while, I actually feel a source of sympathy for him. "Are you sure you don't want me to tell Kenny and Kyle?"

    As he sits down with me, I can see the pain written on his face. "Yes, I'm sure."

    We both sink into the bitter sound of silence. My mind races into runoff thoughts and cloudy memories from last night.

     I remember discarding my sixth or seventh beer, throwing it on the hardwood floor. I watched the glass shatter into dozens of pieces, the remains shook in contact. Then, Kyle walked up to me and I think I caught a fragrance of alcohol on his breath. I stared into his cloudy, emerald eyes and...

    "What's up, bitches?" Kenny says, revealing his head through the slit of the front door.

    I ignore the blond's presence and try to remember the encounter Kyle and I had yesterday night.

   ...I think he kissed me. He harshly shoved his lips against mine and our lips moved in unison.

    My head aches to try to remember the rest. All I know is that he and I kissed. He kissed me.

    My stomach flips as Kyle enters the room. I wonder if he was too drunk to have a sense of what happened.

    "Hey." Kyle says, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the hook. My eyes run over him, nothing his slightly tanned skin. He himself has a cut on his palm and a darkened spot on his upper arm. Did he fall?

    Kenny sits himself between Stan and I. The raven haired boy's nervousness is radiating off of him like a wildfire.

   "Dude, why are you caked up in foundation?"

    Well, there we have it. I knew that Stan wasn't going to have the ability to keep a secret from Kenny, The blond is too observant and clingy.

   I keep my mouth shut, as asked.

   "I- I fell." He stutters and uncomfortably folds his arms into his lap. Kenny cranes his head in my direction and cocks a brow.

    I shake my head and remain silent.

   "Take your shirt off." He instructs in a motherly voice. Stan gives me an alarmed look.

     "I-It's nothing." Stan pleads.

     Kyle and I look at eachother as Kenny crawls over Stan and holds him in a lock, straddling his waist. The raven haired boy yells a series of 'no's when the blond gets ahold of the rim of his shirt. Pulling it off, it is revealed that if Stan was in that fight any longer, he would of fucking died.

     "Dude, what the hell happened to you?" Kyle asks, leaning over his friend. The redhead looks stunned and in shock.

     It's only a matter of seconds before Stan is in a sobbing mess. He looked worse than when he was crying after his breakup.

   "I'm out. I can't stand watching people cry." The Jewish boy says, slowly walking backwards. "Cartman?"

    I redirect my gaze into Kyle's eyes and slowly nod. My heart skips a few beats when he smiled and gestured for me to follow.

    We file into the kitchen and he sticks his head around the corner to get a glimpse of what's going on. I tiptoe over him and look as well.

     Kenny rolls of the boy's hips and offers a hug to him. Stan takes it and wraps his arms around the blond's stomach, pressing his head against his chest.

    I didn't realize it until now, but they seem as if they are some elderly couple. Together, they look like they've been married for years.

     As soon as I hear Kyle start his sentence, I look underneath me to watch him instead. "Are they dating? Did I miss something?" He whispers, biting his lip. It takes me a while to register what he's saying, I am too caught up in his cunning looks.

    I  shake my head and chuckle under my breath. "No. I think they would of told us."

     He puckers his lips in thought, tilting his head.

   We both look over the corner of the wall again. They are still in a bit of an embrace. Kenny backs up from their hold and lifts Stan's chin up to him.

    "Don't cry." He says, pressing his lips firmly against Stan's own. Stan doesn't object and starts to kiss back.

    Holy fucking, flying shit.

    "Jesus, dude." Kyle whispers a shout and looks back at me, wide eyed. I've never seen him more shocked in my entire life. "Wendy fucked Stan up."