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Chapter 8

What…

What the fuck is going on?! He’s-his lips-they’re- what the fuck is he doing?! I gave him no reason to think about it so why?! Why is Cartman fucking kissing me?!

-Shit! I can’t even drop him or shove him away… He’s already hurt. But he’s holding this kiss, and… I… I…

…No. Just… back away from him.

Obviously…

When our lips separate I take in much needed breath, not realizing I’d apparently been holding it. I look him over and have to force myself not to demand what he was thinking. Even though it’s clear that I can’t ignore this. My face is intensely hot and I can feel myself starting to sweat.

“What was that?” I ask in a clearly feigned tone of calmness. I can’t help that I’m speaking through the breath I’m trying to catch. Holy shit. Holy shit. Cartman’s pupils are fucking blown. What the fuck. What the fuck is happening… “Well?!” I ask exasperatedly.

Cartman merely blinks and stares blankly. “…Uh… …huh..?”

This fucking- piece of shit! He knows exactly what the fuck I’m talking about! The bastard… I bet he was using the situation as an opportunity…

I sit back and shut my eyes, letting Cartman support himself as I rub my temples. Fuck… I can’t. I can’t let him see my reaction. He’s trying to get a reaction out of me. “Leave.”

Cartman just sits there, staring at me like I didn’t fucking say anything. I purse my lips and watch him stare at me like he’s innocent. “…Kahl,”

“Get out!” I shout and stand up, turning away from him. I can’t fucking handle this. I can’t even stand to look at him. “Go home, Fatass!”

I can feel my fists clench together, my entire body completely tense. It’s taking everything in me not to kick the boxes in front of me over. Hell if I’ll let Cartman see me like that. But surprisingly enough, I actually hear Cartman walk up the steps and close the basement door.

He actually left.

“Fuck,” I exhale deeply, gripping the fabric over my chest. Thank god… My heart is fucking pounding so hard. I’m relieved that I dressed for being hot. If I was in my hat right now I’d be so overheated. Slowly, I make my way over to the basement stairs and take a seat- or, more accurately, I collapse into a sitting position. I run my hands through my slightly dampened hair, then running my cool hands over my hot face and sighing.

Why did he do that…? I mean… he did hit his head, but, kissing someone isn’t something people normally do mindlessly. He acted like he was completely innocent! That bastard… he probably did it to fuck with me! That has to be it. It had to have been a way to taunt me…

But… if that were the case… why wasn’t it quick? It would make more sense if he just gave me a fucking peck, and then called me a faggot or something. It’s hypocritical as fuck to do something like that, but that sounds like something Cartman would do just to get under my skin.

The kiss he gave me… the way his lips connected with mine was so… soft. And he held it. He held me in it with his hand in my hair, not shoving or pulling me, just gently… his fingers were gently intertwined in my hair…

Oh god…