Kyman #1: "Suck my balls"

                                    

                                          
Artist credit: CatLemonz on DeviantArt
TW: Blackmailing, forced consent. This chapter is darker than all the previous ones!!
Pairing: Kyle & Cartman 
Synopsis: Cartman set out to make a certain Jew sUuuck his bwalls.
Words: 1,200 
** Bold marks when the smut begins.
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Fresh out of the shower, Kyle pads across the worn gray carpet of his bedroom to his dresser. He gets out his Terrance and Philip pajama shirt and a pair of sweats.
As an extremely particular child, he had made his mom buy him the same matching pajama set, just in different sizes as he grew. Now, a senior in high school, he was finally on his last pair or, rather, the last shirt since the pants no longer fit him.
To his dismay, he had continuously become taller but hardly wider. Starting in middle school, all the other guys had slowly filled out. Cartman became taller and fatter, Stan filled out attractively - only to average height, but with muscles, and even Kenny, with his limited nourishment, had managed to get toned.
Not Kyle, though. No matter how much he ate, he couldn't beat his quick metabolism. The only thing that grew fatter, as Bebe AND the other girls loved to observe, was his ass. He shakes his head in disgust at the thought.
Of course, he'd tried exercise too, even going to the gym with Stan and Clyde, but he couldn't stand the feeling of sweat prickling his skin.
He'd heard his phone buzz with text messages several times while he was getting dressed but ignored it. The guys were probably just bickering in the group chat like always.
He flicks his light off before lying down in his bed, nuzzling into his purple comforter. Shuddering, he can't help but start to meander through the contents of his day.
It had been another one of bizarre-and-yet-common South Park bullshit. He'd always found it ironic how these things had to happen to him. So many kids and teens, who he would happily trade places with, would love the "adventures". Instead, a person who'd much prefer a simple, average life had to go through it.
This time, he'd made the mistake of making a dumbass bet with Cartman. A Leprechaun, really? The odds had to be in the decimals range, but of course, with his luck, it'd turn out to be true.
In his head, he chastised himself. He should've known better. He did know better, really, that nothing good ever comes from responding, positively or negatively, to Cartman's bullshit. As per usual, it was really his temper that got the best of him.
God, he groans, it's just so fucking hard when he's so, so goddamn obnoxious.
Hearing his phone start buzzing insistently again, he whips his hand out to grab it.
OH! Well, would you look at that. Of course, it's that fatass annoying me, even when I'm in my own goddamn room.
He takes a mental note to take the piss out of Stan again later for giving Cartman his new number in the first place before jabbing one of the notifications open.
Met with a huge wall of text, he immediately decides not to even bother reading anything. Instead, he types out, "FUCK YOU", presses send, and then hits block.
Satisfied, he turns over and closes his eyes before happily drifting off to sleep.
Said sleep only lasts about an hour before he's woken up by a bang on his window.
Jolting up, he whips his head around, looking for the source of the noise.
No. No fucking way! You have got to be shitting me.