Chapter Text
Eric’s pretty pissed off.
He has been for a long time, ever since Kyle stopped paying attention to him as he so often did, brushing off his remarks with an ugly scowl in his face and turning the other way.
But, why?
He’s good at reading people, using his charisma and being a manipulative asshole that everyone hates. Kyle is easy to read: short-tempered, always trying to keep up his good-boy-who-can-do-no-wrong-and-is-always-morally-right façade. But for the life of him he cannot figure out what’s up Kyle’s vagina this time.
He doesn’t seem to notice how his eyes always shift to Kyle, how his body tenses up whenever Kyle acknowledges him—even if it's for the slightest moment—brushing it off as wanting to piss him off and get on his nerves, as he so often does.
Eric’s tried everything in the book. Sometimes, he can see the anger in Kyle’s eyes, burning hot, before Kyle turns away and ignores him, face blank and collected.
“Dude, stop staring. You’re distracting me.” Kyle whispers without looking at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line as he presses his pen onto the paper, actually paying attention to the utterly miserable and boring class—unlike Eric.
“Okay, well then, stop being distracting.”
“You’re the one distracting me!” Kyle hisses, briefly turning to acknowledge Cartman, then going back to jotting down notes furiously. Eric takes note of the way he grips the pen tighter than before, of the way his leg is bouncing up and down constantly.
Eric pretends to stare at the window, at the chalkboard—literally anything but Kyle, no matter how boring everything gets whenever he’s around Kyle—and slowly, slowly inches his foot close to Kyle’s.
Then he steps on Kyle’s foot, hard. As hard as he can.
Kyle yelps, jerks and hits his knee on the underside of his table.
“Ow! What the hell is wrong with you, asshole?”
Eric smirks, he’s got all of Kyle’s attention. He opens his mouth to retort, to insult and keep this game of theirs going—
“Eric Cartman! Kyle Broflovski!” Mr. Garrison turns back from the chalkboard, glaring at them, hands on his hips. “If you would quit fucking around, before I send you off to the principal’s office!”
Kyle bows his head down, focusing on his notebook, even though he writes nothing in it. Merely staring just to have something to do. Eric, on the other hand, just sits there looking bored at Mr. Garrison, waiting for his back to turn to pester Kyle again.
When the opportunity comes, Kyle doesn’t spare a glance at him. Instead, he chooses to keep a blank face and ignore every hushed attempt at a conversation.
Well, this is really getting on his nerves. He decides it’s time to do something more extreme.
At lunch, he sits right next to Kyle, setting down his lunch tray with more force than necessary.
He has backed Kyle up into a corner, and Kyle has no choice but to tell him what the hell is wrong with him. It’s the perfect plan.
Stan says something about Wendy, Kenny cracks a joke, Butters giggles, Stan sighs defeatedly and rests his chin on his palm. The conversation continues with Kyle piping up every few times, moving the food on his plate instead of actually eating it. Eric doesn’t care about all that, doesn’t care about Stan and Wendy’s on and off relationship. He ignores everything, in favor of focusing on Kyle instead. Always Kyle.
Kyle’s reactions to whatever the fuck it is they’re talking about, the small quirk of his lips and the roll of his eyes and scowl on his face whenever someone says something dumb.
Eric wants to kiss that stupid scowl off of Kyle’s stupid face.
He blinks wide at the thought. What the hell?
No, he did not think of kissing Kyle just now. He is not a homosexual. He’s straight, he likes girls, whatever. Not Kyle, definitely not the way they argue and fight and he has all of Kyle’s attention to himself, a playful game with unspoken rules between them that nobody else understands.
He has to suppress the urge to groan and hit his head against the table.
“What’s up with you, fatass?”
“Oh, nothing, just wondering when you’ll get the sand out of your vagina, Kyle.”
A classic insult he knows will spark Kyle’s anger.
Kyle scowls, and Cartman can’t help the smirk growing on his face. Kyle’s attention is all over him—the way it should be.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Kyle squints, it’s obvious he distrusts Eric, and he has a good reason to. But Eric would really like it if he cut the bullshit and talked straight to him.
“Are you really gonna pretend like you don’t know what’s wrong? That’s messed up, Kyle. Real messed up.”
“Uh, guys…” Stan whispers. Kenny and Butters are tense. Eric doesn’t care.
“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” Eric mocks.
“I’d love that! And maybe if you stopped acting like an asshole to me, Cartman!” Their voices rise in volume.
“Well, how about the fact you’re ruining our relationship, huh, how about that, Kyle?”
Kyle frowns. “I’m not doing shit! Just because I'm tired of dealing with you—” he shoves Cartman’s shoulder “—doesn’t mean there’s something going on. Maybe I’m tired of dealing with this bullshit, with us!”
“Oh you’re calling us bullshit now? That’s a low blow, Kyle.” He spits out. Leans in close to Kyle. “Suck my dick, Kyle.” He accentuates every word.
Kyle goes red—as red as his messy, curly hair that he barely manages to keep under control—and for a second, he lets the anger seep, lets the anger boil and clenches his fists, before he lunges at Eric. They topple over to the ground, gasps and yells in the cafeteria blurring like background noise in Eric’s ears.
He tries to sit up, to knock Kyle off of him—and he feels the harsh punch on his face.
“Guys!” Stan sits up abruptly, everyone in the cafeteria ooh’s and aah’s.
Kyle’s punch throws him off guard, eyes tearing up from the force of it, hands coming over to grasp the messy red hair and pull it hard. Kyle doesn’t relent, gripping Eric’s sweater with fervor and throwing another punch.
Eric flips them over, changing the position and restraining Kyle on the ground with his arm. Closes his hand in a fist and swings. It knocks the air out of Kyle’s lungs.
“Holy shit,” he can hear Kenny, voice muffled, in the ruckus of their fight.
“I do fucked-up things to rile you up, then you insult me and act all mighty so we fight! This is what we’re supposed to be, Kyle!”
“Fuck you!” Kyle’s nails dig into Eric’s arm, scratching, hurting, jerking in every direction to pull out of his grasp. A particularly strong bite stops Eric, rolling off of Kyle as he grits his teeth in irritation.
He’s tempted to leave Kyle laying on the ground, walking away from the cafeteria and leaving this mess of a school day behind—tomorrow's the weekend, it’s whatever, no deal—but Kyle has other plans.
Kyle drags Eric down with him, slams him into the ground.
“I’m not your fucking toy, Cartman!”
He’d laugh, he’d grin and tease Kyle and push him further to see his limit. He’d do it, if he weren’t underneath Kyle and to his mercy.
Kyle’s straddling his waist, raising his arm to deliver constant hits to Eric—his face, mostly.
“Kyle, stop!” He can hear Stan yell, it sounds far away, despite Stan’s hands trying to pry Kyle off from Eric. Kyle pushes Stan with an elbow off of him. Continues to unload his anger onto Eric. Muttering curses over and over and over.
Kenny comes up behind Kyle, and with Stan’s help, they manage to get Kyle away from Eric, dragging him as he twists around and tries to lunge again.
Eric breathes a sigh of relief, lets his head roll back against the cold, dirty floor and takes deep breaths in and out.
Whatever, fuck Kyle, he guesses.
No excuse is good enough to let them get away from detention.
On the weekend, Eric lays in bed, scrolling through social media endlessly.
He doesn’t have any energy left to deal with that happened yesterday—he knows the entire school’s gonna be bitching about it for days. He’ll never hear the end of it.
A part of him hopes it flies under the radar, that it all brushes off quickly without being dramatized more than necessary. Him and Kyle always fight, their rivalry is nothing new to South Park.
Eric’s daydream is interrupted by his phone buzzing, a notification appears on the top of his screen. Kenny.
His finger hovers just above it, thinking it through for a moment—he doesn’t want to see anyone—but relents. He taps on the notification.
cunt:
hey
you should probably see this
link
For a second, he debates on whether sending a "fuck off" text is a better option than clicking the link. Still, against his better judgement, he settles on checking out whatever Kenny sent him.
He’s brought to a weird looking website, the bright color of it stunning his eyes for a second and making him curse. When his eyes adjusts, he scans the words on the pages:
Heated Rivalry: a Cartman x Kyle story.
He blinks, eyes wide and staring at it. He scrolls down to what appears to be the summary.
Nothing interferes with Kyle Broflovski’s game—definitely not the sexy rival he loves to hate.
Pro hockey star Kyle Broflovski isn’t just crazy talented, he’s got a spotless reputation. Hockey is his life. Now that he’s captain of the New Jersey Devils, he won’t let anything jeopardize that, especially the sexy rival whose plump body keeps him awake at night.
Colorado Avalanche captain Eric Cartman is everything Kyle’s not. The self-proclaimed king of the ice, he’s as cocky as he is talented. No one can beat him—except Kyle. They’ve made a career on their legendary rivalry, but when the skates come off, the heat between them is undeniable. When Eric realizes he wants more than a few secret hookups, he knows he must walk away. The risk is too great.
As their attraction intensifies, they struggle to keep their relationship out of the public eye. If the truth comes out, it could ruin them both. But when their need for each other rivals their ambition on the ice, secrecy is no longer an option…
in no way shape or form is this related to heated rivalry the published book
What. The. Fuck. Is this?
He quickly opens the chat with Kenny again, thumbs rapidly sliding across the keys.
fatass:
what the fuck kenny
cunt:
i don’t know, dude
this was all because of whatever lover’s quarrel you and kyle had yesterday
fatass:
okay first off get your facts right kenny
he punched me in the fucking face, repeatedly
second what the hell
is this just the creek situation all over again
cunt:
first off: sure, while you went on about smth between how special your relationship was
second: yeah, theres a shit ton of fanfiction about you two
get your facts right fatass
fatass:
fuck you, im not gay
neither is kyle
cunt:
never said you were
smth you wanna tell me, cartman?
Kenny sends a cutesy sticker of a face blushing and looking away. Eric scowls.
fatass:
yeah im logging off
kys
Kenny hearts the message.
And well, Eric’s day has been shit.
He opens his tab, the story written about him and Kyle, and stares at it. Really stares at it for a long while.
Fuck it, why not? It’s not like he has anything better to do.
He clicks on the story, and begins reading.