Chapter Text
Get in the fucking car
Cartman
Cartman. Come on.
I'm going to let stan sit in the front
I don't care how car sick you get
Then, if you throw up in my car
FUCK OFF JEW IM OMW
I'm going to beat your ass
"He's on his way," Kyle announces, swiping up, out of the text thread.
"Finally," Stan huffs with his hit, passing the joint back to Kenny. The two of them are sitting in the backseat, backpacks at their feet.
Kyle plugs his phone into his car charger. Almost immediately, double bass and the tell-tale "BLEGH" of Lamb of God begin to blare from his speakers. Kyle rushes to turn it down to a barely there level, wincing at the volume.
"Sorry," he mumbles half-heartedly, already anticipating-
"I don't see how you listen to that shit." Stan offers, propping his feet up on the center console.
"Yeah, yeah," Kyle mumbles, having heard that phrase almost every morning since he got this car on his 16th birthday and started driving the guys to school. He shakes his head at the pretentious ire in Stan's voice. Had their friendship not been buffered by years and years of support and familiarity, their differences would have split them up years ago. Kyle prides himself on being able to let it go.
Kenny leans forward, offering the joint to Kyle by pressing his hand against Kyle's cheek. Kyle takes it just in time to take a long hit as he watches Cartman walk across his yard and into Kyles, then in front of the car's hood. The passenger side door swings open, and Cartman throws his massive body inside the vehicle, causing it to rock with his weight, and he shuts the door sharply behind him.
Kyle's ears burn with it immediately.
"Don't slam my fucking doors!" Kyle snaps with the joint hanging out of his mouth.
Cartman shoves his backpack into the footwell before turning and snatching the joint from between Kyle's lips. Kyle leans forward to follow it as long as possible to get one more hit.
"Fuck you, Kyle. Maybe I wouldn't be slamming shit if someone hadn't rushed me." Cartman replies before taking a long drag himself.
Kyle sees red. He should be used to it by now. At some point, he should consider controlling the anger that only Cartman can inspire in him. In the long run, it would make him a better, happier person if Cartman didn't get to him as he did.
But he doesn't do that. He doesn't take a deep breath or take a second to consider his options. Instead, he rears a fist back and socks Cartman as hard as he can in the jaw, given the weird angle.
Cartman yelps, only taking a second to rub at the place of impact before he returns the blow, catching Kyle in the cheek. And from there, it escalates into wild half-cocked swings that miss their marks just as much as they hit them. Pain blooms in Kyle's lip as Cartman catches him in the mouth, and Kyle seethes, grabbing Cartman from the front of his shirt and ready to dive back in until Kenny and Stan reach from the back to hold them against their respective seats.
"Guys, calm the fuck down!" Kenny gripes.
"Asshole!" Kyle huffs but stays in his seat, sucking the blood welling from his bottom lip before it can drip down his chin.
"Fuck off, Fire crotch. You started it." Cartman returns before yanking the visor down to check his face in the mirror. Kyle can tell there will be a bruise along his cheekbone, and the satisfaction Kyle feels as he tongues the split in his lip heats his cheeks and swells in his stomach.
"Can we go, Kyle, please?" Stan begs, finally letting Kyle's shoulders go and slumping back in his seat.
Kyle puts the car in reverse and backs out of the driveway, still trying to level his breathing.
"Every fucking day." Kenny breathes with a humorless laugh.
Cartman reaches down to the foot well and grabs the joint from where it landed on his backpack- the cherry burning a little hole in the polyester. He takes another hit before reaching behind him to pass it to Stan.
It's silent in the car. Kyle focuses on the speakers; the intro to Poison Dreams is just beginning. Cartman makes a little noise of acknowledgment and turns it up. Kyle hates him for it.
They don't get to school in time to lazily finish their joint like usual. Instead, as soon as Kyle throws the car in park, they all hit it two or three more times in quick succession before Stan stuffs the remaining half in his cigarette pack for later.
It's four weeks until graduation, and the first-period bell just rang; none can muster the motivation to speed up their lazy stride to class.
Kyle mumbles the lyrics of the song they didn't get to finish, his favorite part only a moment away. He pushes his way through the double doors into the building, and they go their separate ways.
Kyle has first period alone. He shuffles into Physics II, and the teacher doesn't even look up. A Bill Nye, the Science Guy video is playing on the projector, and Kyle pulls out his phone and settles in for a boring 55 minutes.
hey
The notification has him gripping his phone tighter immediately, and Kyle thinks if he had better self-control, he'd ignore it.
What?
He writes back despite himself.
u know theyre playing n Denver this weeknd rite?
Even though Kyle knows precisely who Cartman's talking about, the vagueness of the question pisses him off something serious. Why the fuck does Cartman assume he can read his mind? Is he just fishing for Kyle to ask him who? Kyle does not want to reply. He wants so badly to leave him on read, and maybe knowing that would piss Cartman off should be good enough, but it isn't.
Who's 'they,' Cartman?
fuckin lamb of god, who the fuck else would i b talking about????
Kyle had looked into those tickets, of course. And it's not that Kyle thinks that a hundred dollars to see Killswitch and Lamb of God isn't worth it. It is. It's just that his dad didn't buy his car for him. To teach Kyle about finances, Gerald had gotten the car in his own name and is making Kyle make the payments, and with his shitty little part-time job at Game Stop, it doesn't leave him much extra. So, a hundred dollars plus gas both ways AND parking, Kyle has already accepted that he couldn't swing it.
What about it?
Kyle watches the three little dots jump for a ridiculous amount of time. The bubble appears and reappears, showing Cartman's hesitation. Kyle hates that his curiosity is immediately peaked.
ill buy ur ticket if u drive me
Kyle gasps. Hand over his mouth, entirely audibly GASPS. The excitement that wells up inside him is almost consuming, and for a second, he thinks about how perfect it would be to see his favorite band play right before all this college bullshit had to start. Directly before he sold his soul to Colorado State, before he committed all of his free time to some dumb part-time job to get by, and before he got assigned a shitty little dorm room to call home.
But then the thrill fades. He thinks that there must be some other reason. This is Cartman he's thinking of. And, sure, maybe Kyle is the only person Cartman knows who likes metal AND has a car out of their little friend group. And, yeah, the only memories he has of him and Cartman truly getting along was when they talked about how much of a master of the art Chris Adler is. But surely he's planning something.
Why?
becuz you own a car numb nuts
Kyle should have expected that answer, honestly.
What makes you think we could even survive an hour and a half drive there and back alone together?
maybe we wont ;)
You get on my fucking nerves.
Kyle finds himself staring hard at the winky emoticon and thinking even harder of what that could possibly mean before he adds.
Has your face bruised up yet?
yea
its gonna get worse
reminds me of the one u gave me at kennys bday
u wanna c?
The fight at Kenny's birthday had been about an unabided seat check that Cartman was sure he had called but Kyle denied hearing. That fight had ended when Kyle's nose started gushing blood and Cartman reclaimed his seat but not without stretching out his legs and patting his thighs. Kyle scoffs at the memory, remembering Cartman trying to wink during the condescending offer of his lap for Kyle to sit in, but his eye was too swollen to let it truly land.
The left side of Cartman's face and Kyle's nose went through a range of colors in the following days, but nothing stuck with Kyle as much as the red of Cartman's blood rising to just underneath the skin, hours away from turning from the deep red to purple.
Yeah
Kyle stares at his phone while he waits for a picture. The last he saw, Cartman's cheek was pink with busted capillaries.
The picture shows up a second later, and it has bruised up. Cartman's cheekbone is red and irritated, and under his eye is purpling. Kyle honestly hadn't thought he'd hit him that hard. He flexes his hand at the thought, and sure enough, it does ache smartly with each movement. Kyle takes in the rest of Cartman's face, the smug little grin he's got like he wanted to get punched.
Does it hurt?
Kyle bites at his split lip and swallows the blood welling in his gumline as he types. His knee jumping a mile a minute under his desk.
yea
show me urs
Kyle immediately opens up his camera app and pulls down his bottom lip to show where it has a nasty split inside, still bleeding, because he can't stop spreading the skin with his tongue. If asked, he would deny how long he searched for an angle that he found flattering so that the bit of blood on his teeth and the irritation in the skin around his knuckles were fully displayed. He takes the picture and only lets himself look over it once before sending it.
The three dots jump and cease and start again for a few seconds, and Kyle truly is on the edge of his seat, waiting for a response. He wonders if Cartman is as fascinated with the bruises they give each other as Kyle is. He wonders if Cartman stares at them before he goes to sleep like Kyle does. If he zooms in on the injured skin and thinks, I did that, over and over again in his head like a record skip he doesn't want to stop.
fuck
looks good on u
The bell ringing startles Kyle so much that his phone chatters to his desk. He stands quickly, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and pocketing his phone. He walks in a daze to his next period, his brain feeling fuzzy and his face and neck feeling hot. The three dots had been jumping last he'd seen before shunning his phone to his pocket and he hates himself for wondering what else Cartman could possibly have to say.
His next period is with Kenny, and Kyle is genuinely relieved to be in the presence of someone he feels utterly normal around.
Kenny's already in his seat when Kyle throws himself at his desk.
"Long time no see, baby girl." Kenny greets.
"Do you think Stan will wanna finish that thing off at lunch?" Kyle asks from where he's hiding his face in his hands. He can feel his phone buzzing in his back pocket, and the physical restraint it takes not to yank it out and see what Cartman's said is frankly ridiculous.
"Hmm, probably. Lemme ask." Kenny says, taking his phone out of his hoodie pocket and tapping it. Kyle watches Kenny's thumbs move, and after a second, Kyle feels his phone go off and curses to himself. He should have added he needed this particular session to not include a specific friend of theirs and although he'd be shocked if Cartman deigned to miss lunch, the risk was making him legitimately anxious. He pulls out his phone and heads directly to Snapchat, opening their group chat.
Kenny: the lovely Kyle would like to know if we could finish that Jay at lunch. I, for one, am game. Staniel?
Stan and Cartman's little bitmoji faces pop up almost instantly at the bottom of the screen and do the little thinking face that means they are typing.
Stan: I can't 😭 Wendy wants to "talk" at lunch
Cartman: 🤣🤣🤣🤣
Stan: Cartman, I'm begging you not to be a dick. If she breaks up with me again, I owe Clyde $15
Stan: but you guys can finish it without me if you want. I got plenty on the farm.
Kenny: Stan, I love you; I'm pretty sure Wendy has never scheduled a time to "talk" to you where she didn't break up with you.
Kenny: and honestly, king. You deserve better than that
Kenny: Kyle and I are going to smoke your weed tho
thank you, dude. It would help if you broke up w her first. Hit her with the "there's something I need to say to you as well."
Cartman: filthy jew tactics
Cartman: as much as I love smoking Stan's weed, there is no nutritional value, so I'll be in the lunch room w all the good little boys and girls
bc you're known for giving a fuck about the nutritional value of anything
Cartman's bitmoji thinks on and off for a moment before disappearing entirely, and Kyle feels a mixture of satisfaction for getting the last word in and disappointment that it hadn't gone on longer.
Those feelings don't last long, though, as he gets a text from Cartman moments later. He opens their thread and sees the two texts he hadn't checked in between classes.
i bet thats not enough to shut u up
i could break ur front teeth and ud still run ur mouth
Kyle's breath catches in his throat before he even gets to the new text.
i knew it
u must love this shit
"Kyle, bro, you are blushing," Kenny says, and Kyle jerks. So immediately hyper-focused on his conversation with Cartman, he nearly forgot where he was. Before Kyle could even register what it was Kenny said he was yanking Kyle's phone out of hand.
Kyle snatches after it, but it's much too late, and before he can speak, Kenny is scrolling up on his and Cartman's conversation. Kyle is almost immediately embarrassed, though he isn't sure why. This isn't all that different from any other conversation he's had with Cartman via text, but it feels more private as if no one else would understand.
"Woah." Kenny mutters, "You guys are fucked up, huh?"
Well, that proves that.
"What do you mean? I'm not fucked up!" Kyle squawks, making grabby hands towards his phone again, and Kenny yanks it out of his reach just the same.
He scrolls up further, and Kyle can tell it's before today's conversation. Kyle racks his brain to remember what he and Cartman had talked about last.
"No," Kenny scoffs, "I mean, it's not like fucked up, fucked up. I didn't think you and Cartman were like that."
"Like WHAT?" Kyle asks in a voice that is way too loud. Kyle knows he's not handling this well and has completely missed the opportunity to rock this out. He can feel the heat in his face up to his hairline and really wishes Kenny would stop reading.
Kenny jumps when Kyle yells, slowly setting his phone back on Kyle's desk. Kyle yanks it and shoves it deep into his pocket. Kenny sits backward and leans in, speaking in a hushed tone when he says
"This isn't like a," Kenny pauses, looking for the right word, "y'all don't have like a kink thing going on?" He finally asks.
Kyle's jaw drops, "What?" he asks, barely above a whisper.
Kenny suddenly looks exceptionally concerned, the delight on Kyle's behalf gone.
"Dude.." Kenny mutters