Day one ― Ninjas/7 min in heaven
Pride month is over, let's go back to the closet, gang (´ε｀ )
(I saw only few shipweek related posts on tumblr cause it's too early for now to see the crowd's obvious choice. I guess the ninja theme is not so popular? I am glad, i am not alone on not adding that prompt lol. And it doesn't mean i am shitting on the tag voted by people, not at all)
They're both aged up a little, like something in between 14 & 15. 16 is fucking overused in fics i swear, and i don't see the appeal. Why do people like that age so much though? Maybe I grew up where it's not a big thing, so when I was 16 back then it didn't really feel so special? (´-ω-`)
As always characters belong to original creators, i have no beta and all mistakes are mine✌️
Also i did creekweek2025, so check it out i guess? (·ε·｀)
The light in rectangular shapes illuminates a situation. Two guys trapped in the cliche game. Minutes tormentingly slowly dragging themselves across the shared narrow space. Stuck with someone else with a big emphasis on “someone else”, perhaps the shitty mood could've been not so shitty.
Voices from outside chatting leisurely. Bored because the main thing of why the teens huddled up together is occupied, they began to make bets. Who'll crush out first, or would the closet even survive if the said crush out turns into a fight. For now a bigger portion bets on the fight. Figures, because who is Kyle's partner in trouble. The bottle definitely had something against him.
But, look at that. Three minutes in and Cartman doesn't do shit. Except the creepy stare. A nasty shiver runs down the spine. Under that gaze Kyle feels… uneasy. He wants to get out, to yell or punch, if so would stop Cartman from staring.
What does this insufferable creature want from him? Make out? To suddenly fall under the charms of that creepy stare and confess undying love? Sure and pigs can fly. He just needs to endure some puny minutes.
“Can you look away?” The words spewed themselves out. The annoying voice crack makes the whole tone pathetic, as if Kyle begs, which is clearly not." “You know we're not going to kiss, right?”
“Bitch.” A faint snort. Eyes highlighted by the muted lights squinted in mockery. The head tilted to the side, face of an angel as if the cuss just now didn't leave those lips. More like a little evil demon on observation duty. The rectangular light in halo shape above Cartman’s head adds to the false image.
The audacity to have a big smirk ruining the “innocent” face. Bettors on fight half won because of the small physical action resulting in awkward trapping Cartman somewhere beneath. The face he makes is somewhat closer to what cats usually do when they're feeling angry and trapped. Although brief, it lacks the usual juiciness. Instead Cartman smiles. Corners on the mouth shaking uncontrollably it seems.
“The fuck are you smiling about?”
“You can't. Where would you learn it if the girls always left you untouched virgin.” A snort. The fatass giggles shamelessly. A taunting expression when he goes out of his way to shakes the opponent's ground.
And for this… embarrassed, enraged Kyle can't say much. Because the dude beside him had a girlfriend. Heidi, bless her soul, touched this lips with her lips. A nausea's cold and hot sweat goes through the whole body. The senses tingling to run away before the big kind of disaster would sweep him.
“I can teach you. Not for free of course.” Cartman has audacity to look smug, when he spits the words. “I had a girlfriend, so I know how the stuff works unlike you, Kyle.”
A moment of silence. Returning to a cramped sitting position, away as possible feels like a defeat. The gaze is no longer a bother. An unpleasant lump in the throat sour everything Kyle wants to say. A series of unlucky events is his attempts to get a girlfriend. But when someone like this person on the opposite end of the closet gets a girlfriend, you are bound to feel awful about yourself.
Mastering the craft of kissing to then impress some girl with Cartman as the training dummy just sounds absurd. Why would he learn this from Cartman of all the people? Stupid, yeah, but he can't shake the weird hotness spreading out on the face. Is the lack of air making him so delirious or what? Probably. Not everyday, yes, a shitty, but friend nevertheless says something like this.
“Pff, if only you saw your face right now. Redder than your curls. Did you think im actually gonna help you? Nah, I'm not that desperate.”
“No, show me.” Kyle speaks fast before brain catches up with the mouth. For a second there's silence. “You must be a pro, show off your skills. I dare you.”
Throwing a bone to Cartman is dangerous. You're never what this fucker might do to you in his revenge. But that's for other people. For Kyle, who knows him from the snotty little child, raising voice is what he used to do by now when communicating with Cartman. Although this is a new low. Below is dating, etc comes with digging under the bottom line. Dating, what?
“So eager, hmm?” The voice full of resentment doesn't suit the facial expression. Weak light plays tricks, yes. No way this dude would look so eager, so flustered? Brown eyes instantly switch up from sleepy laziness to bright awakening “Sure, c’mere.”
“Huh?” Taken aback by the fast agreement, Kyle uselessly opens his mouth and shuts it in disbelief. A dumb fish caught by the foolish wish to win in a verbal fight. Plop-plop, keep your dumb tongue from letting out some dumb shit.
“Don't try to chicken out now, Kyle. Be a man of his word and kiss me.” The dude sighs theatrically loud with arrogant eye rolling. Leans all the way closer, practically invading Kyle’s personal space too fast. “Do it. We don't have much time left anyway.”
Too close. Scents of cologne Cartman began using not too long ago, the light notes of the cheap alcohol indeed was sold for a group of teens because of course this town’s adults don't really care for teens. Before occupying the closet, Kyle had two gulps of it. Too nasty, awful burning taste. Not new sensations, except how uncomfortably close they are.
Unlike him, Cartman had the face of someone on the high horse. Now, when he practically took the initiative role, of course he does. Brown eyes on their way to look glassy and unresponsive practically “eating up” the view of a flustered Kyle. Who'd rather stop all this shit, wishing to cup those cheeks. Feel how hot they are actually. No rational thought left, time to raise a white flag?
“Wait.” Stopping from Cartman taking any space further, Kyle uselessly mutters. This sort of reaction though doesn't stop Cartman. A huff. The hand stopping him, easily tossed away. Its warmth dizziness Kyle, so is the presence of someone inches away from his nervously chewed lips. What was with gaze earlier doesn't even compare to this. Has Heidi, the girlfriend, ever received this?
Huh, she didn't. Kyle can't remember anything like this stare related to someone. Should it feed the ego? No, if you think rationally. But it does. A lot.
“Huh, so you indeed a coward little bitch, Kyle. What is a man called who backs down after throwing loud words?”
“No, I am not. It's just…” He doesn't have words. They're stubbornly leaving him one on one with too fast, too enthusiastic Cartman. “I…You’re too close.”
The sounds around muffles, heartbeat too fast too loud in the chest. Kyle knows what it could mean: tightening chest and palms going sticky with the sweat. For Cartman he must look stupid, being all worked up over a small little kiss.
There's a tiny creepy sensation working against all the logic and the itch has the same taste. Once or twice, Kyle felt it. What's scary, this feeling whispering some awful things, like how the real kiss would taste like? Wait what? A second pause for him lasts like a thousand years. Yet he is still unprepared when the closeness is down to zero.
The breath on his lips. Why he's gaze so soft all of a sudden? Why the tender touch and consideration of Kyle’s tangled feelings. Cupping the cheek, doing all the sweet lovey-dovey stuff by stroking it gently? Weird. Can this end quickly? Nothing feels right, so Kyle gives up to that touch.
Time doesn't stop, the taste doesn't bring swarms of butterflies. Books, movies exaggerate stuff, kissing especially. Somehow, Kyle disappointment. Sober thoughts, what left of them, chanting somewhere in the background in the dying echo. It's bitter, sharp on the tongue. Oh, and it's slobbery. The motherfucker drools like a dog. But the fingers don't pinch cheek's, don't tease, they stroke. Giving a warm rush hrough the limp body.
He can't breathe properly. Fighting over the control of the kiss is somewhat familiar in the contrast to dull sweetness. Yes, the usual dynamic never had cliche pink romance gestures. There's someone from one of them feeling a little too good about it. And when he does catch it, the reality hits. Much slower though, he came down from the high to understand: it was him.
Halfway through Eric just allowed it to be controlled, which is another groundbreaking realization. Did he just? Hazy picture of Cartman’s face slowly retreating back from showing himself into the close proximity. Yes, it seems like it. Because of how dumbfounded Cartman’s face expression shines in the new delight.
At this point this shit is beyond humiliation. The face must be in shades of ripe tomato, how hot it feels on the touch. Looking away only worsened the situation because of the not so faint laugh. Can something shoo them out of the closet already? Are the people asleep over there? They need to stop Kyle from doing anymore of the stupid shit, like kissing a guy and finding it enjoyable.
“Shut up.” Through the clenched jaw, Kyle hisses. He pushes away, hastily opens the door. Immediately facing many watching eyes. Disgust and curiosity mixed together. Did they overhear the conversation? Did the people who put on the kiss know they're won?
Eyes move in sync on Cartman, who shoves Kyle out of his way. Dumbfounded, he looks at Cartman’s back, returning to the circle of cheerful crowd of drunk teens. Somehow Kyle feels like a used toy. Got played a little and thrown away. He shakes these weird thoughts away.
What the hell just happened?
