South Park: Thought To Be Opposites [BoyxBoy]

#ChapterTwenty

(Cartman's POV)

My whole leg felt numb. My whole body ached. It was worse lying to the doctor on how I broke the damn thing. I mean, honestly, I lie 24/7. But, lying on how I got an injury seems wrong. I did say I tripped, which isn't exactly lying, but over what I tripped on is what I fibbed on.

   I tripped over Kyle... in the midst of shoving each other's tongues down our throats.

  There was no possible way that I was going to admit it on the spot. So, I said that I tripped over that pussy, Stan. He'd probably be pissed if he knew I blamed it on him, but I wasn't gonna take any chances with blaming it on Kyle.

  "Eric, I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to." My long train of thoughts were interrupted once more with Kyle's apologies. He hasn't stopped doing so since we left the hospital and my mother went out of sight.

  "Stop apologizing, you did nothing wrong. Seriously, it's not your fault. " I tried. I bit my lip amd adjusted in the sheets. My voice was low enough so Stan and Kenny's asses couldn't hear it from where I was.

  They were sitting glumly, slouching down on the floor, playing XBox or some shit. Both of them were too zoned anyway. You'd have to shut the television off for them to pay attention.

   "You don't care that I broke your damn ankle?" He said, brows furrowed. He looked upset and agitated. Not the moods that I'd like to mess with.

   "Kyle, if I cared, I would be in a yelling and screaming fit. But, of course it's not your fault. I'm the one who tripped over you. You didn't purposely trip me or anything. " I took in a slow breath, lowering my gaze to my plastered ankle. It look horrible. But, I was the one who made the mistake, not Kyle.

    I looked back up at his paled face. All of the emotions he wore on his face earlier were now erased and completely blank.

   "Wanna go for Chinese takeout? I'm sure my mom would let us order some." I suggested, grabbing his hand and rubbing my thumb over his.

   "Yeah, sure. "

--

  "My ass hurts. " The noirette complained,  removing his socks and adjusting on the floor. He grimaced in pain, and tensed for a second.

  "Sure it does, faggot." I replied, chuckling under my breath. Kenny looked up and gave me a death glare from across the room. Jesus, what the fuck is up with people here?

   "You have a boyfriend and you're calling me that?" Stan quirked a brow. He gave me one of those mocking innocent smiles before looking back down at his plate.

  I fucking hate his guts sometimes. I mean, who doesn't? Not even Wendy has shown interest with him anymore. "Well, out of all of us, you'd be most likely to get gang banged. So, yeah, you're a faggot."

   He slowly looked up at me, his cheeks redder than the damn sun. I've never seen his face so radiant. I barked out a laugh and it did nothing to him but make it worse.

  "Cartman, don't be a douche." The blond hissed, then shoving a heave of noodles down his throat. He's just lucky that he actually gets a real meal instead of expired pastries he found on the side of the road.

  I rolled my eyes and looked down at Kyle. He was silent,  almost done with eating. He didn't show interest in arguing not talking with us. He sighed and crossed his legs.

   "You alright?" I asked him.

    "Yeah, but when they leave, can we do something else?" He said in a voice just barely a whisper. My heart jumped at his words.

  "Sure."