#lmao is this even called a ficlet this is a full blown oNESHOT

[reilliane]

Vigil ✤ Kazuha

V i g i l

A/N: Here is the Kazuha angst, sweeties :')) I wrote this with my prepared angsty playlist hehe- I.. well, my heart cracked..

✤ She/her

✤ Warnings: Death

➸ Honor (Sequel) ➸ Little Brother (Scenario) Resolve (Alternate Ending)

Words: 3.9k

"Text in this format means dialogue in flashback!"

The memory of peering into the crib with excited blabbers remains fresh, untarnished with the passing of time.

It feels like it’s just yesterday when your mother reached for the wailing baby laying inside to hand him in your caring touch.

“This is your little brother, [Name].” you squealed when the boy clung unto your finger, “His name is Kazuha. Be a good sister for him, understand?”

“Yes!”

Ah, that did feel as if it was just yesterday.

“Nee-chan!”

Dropping the basket of laundry, you frantically looked around.

“Nee-chan!”

“Kazuha-!?”

He was sprinting, arms flailing as tears spilled past his eyes and panicked exclaims left his lips.

His friend was chasing him from behind, laughing as he waved an undercooked fish—your brother’s worst nightmare.

Comedic but understandable.

“Tomo’s making me eat it!” your younger brother mumbled behind you, pointing accusingly towards his friend who sheepishly spluttered excuses at your stern gaze.

Taking the skewered fish in Tomo’s hands, you hummed, patting his and Kazuha’s heads.

“How about I cook something for the both of you, instead? How’s that sound?”

“Yes, please! Nee-chan’s cooking is the best!”

You can never get tired of cooking for the two of them, even if your sibling eventually asked to be taught, you find yourself still taking over cooking duty. Lovingly whipping up dishes is your forte.

It stuck around when the household eventually lost the attending servants following the fall of the Kaedehara clan. It even stuck through the grim times of your parents’ passing.

Kazuha had gone through so much at a young age, changed little by little—and you aren’t oblivious to it. With his growth, you are a witness to his budding shell of maturity.

Single years fold into a decade and all of a sudden, the mirthful silverette who doesn’t last a day without calling you ‘big sister’ has grown up.

Far too quickly, to be honest, but who are you to hold him back?

“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,” you laugh jokingly, “My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”

He stares at the plates of food you set on the dining table, his sigh small and feeble as you continue gushing. Albeit he has a smile on his face, it appears tight. Forced.

But you turn a blind eye to that—you’ve always been doing it.

Now, however, it seems that your brother has grown tired of humoring you. It has been going on for too long.

“I’m not some child anymore..” his monotonous voice is so unlike him—it’s as if he no longer is the person you grew up with.

Having him address it bluntly prompts you to pause, the only sound being the sizzling of unagi meat, frying to perfection.

The richness of its color, however, dulls when you process what your sibling has mentioned.

As if its vividness is an illusion meant to shield you from present-day reality.

Still, you shake it away, keeping the smile on your face as you set the fried meat on a new plate, turning to put it down on the table beside the other dishes.

“Oh, Ka-“ you stop, seeing the look in his eyes.

The way his carmine optics bore against your [c]s is foreign.

It’s scary.

It’s different. It’s new.

You sit down in front of him, trying not to show how restless you’ve become. Such an attempt is futile, of course, since you’re in front of the person you’ve been with for years.

“Kazu-“

Thud!

Silence zips your lips when he lays his chopsticks down. It isn’t by any means a slam—but someone like Kazuha doesn’t need to be outright with anything in order to express a negative opinion.

“So please refrain from initiating unnecessary coddling,” he cuts you off with a swivel as he leaves for the door. “I have grown up now, sister. I... need you less.”

What?

A multitude of emotions hit you at once, all coming from his sudden statement that feels like it can tear you apart. But oh—who were you kidding?

You know that this will eventually come.

The very day where he admits that he is capable of being alone. Without you.

The opening of the door causes you to stand from your chair, “Wait!”

He does as you said but doesn’t look back. His hand remains on the handle of the knob, unchanging of his decision to leave.

You tug the black and red scarf from your neck, inching close to the man so you can wrap it around his neck.

“It’s cold outside.. won’t you at least eat something?”

It takes him a moment to respond—but his decision does not change.

He detangles the fabric on his neck and, without looking you in the eye, sets it in your hand, rejecting your offer.

“Later.”

And he’s gone.

Nothing changed much after he left with that declaration.

Often times he still returns in the dead of night, a smile on his face. It will only ever droop when you come in the room greeting him a lovely evening, and he will sigh.

“I told you not to wait up for me.”

He will depart for his room before he can hear your explanation.

It leaves you hanging, hollow with bitter hope and refusal to believe that you both have reached that time in life where he doesn’t need you as much.

Each time he turns his back, you are filled to the brim with sorrow you didn’t know you were capable of holding.

Retreating to the upper floor of your home, you will stay at the balcony sighing your concerns away to the stars. To the place where you believe your parents are staying, listening to your bouts of frustration and worry.

“Was I a good sibling for him, mother? Father?” you’ll sometimes mutter as you play with your silver locks, the only thing you share with your sibling other than the forgotten name of a once esteemed clan.

And as you vent all these to the stars, you remain oblivious to the lone figure hiding by the shadows in the adjacent room. His frown is tiny. Sad, but not guilty.

Kazuha will leave once again before he’ll hear his sister’s frustrated cries.

Sometimes, he will chew over it when he is wandering Inazuma—thinking, pondering if perhaps there could’ve been a way to say it without hurting his sibling.

But as he contemplates over and over, he finds that there is no easy method to admitting the truth.

His friend Tomo, albeit not being told anything, is naturally cognizant of the things revolving around the silver-haired siblings.

The older sister’s presence has been diminishing and he can count her appearances at Kazuha’s side getting less.

He has implied several times to make up with the female even if they had no outright argument, and when faced with a baffled question of ‘why’, Tomo only smiles.

“Because you’re family.”

So simple and yet—when Kazuha thinks of the matter a minute longer, the taste in his tongue becomes acrid.

“What upsets you?” his friend questions as he coos over his white feline, “You’re not the Kazuha who’s always crying for big sister, heh.”

The silverette cannot even find it within him to send a retort. His silence, to others, is a message that typifies a want to be alone—but to Tomo, who has known him since they’re both children, that silence is different.

With a hum, he stretches his limbs, yawning as his cat rolls around the grass.

“You know, [Name] won’t hate you for wanting it,” he starts, “You want to wander, don’t you? But you feel like you’re tied down. You’re grounded—because [Name] is here.”

Kazuha flinches and his friend snickers.

Spot on.

“I’m just going to repeat what I said because I meant it, Kazuha. Tell her the truth. She’s literally the most understanding person I know—it’s not like she’s going to despise you for wanting something.”

“… I’ll think about it.”

Tomo sighs. It’s not what I was hoping for but it’s a start.

Remembering something that moment, Tomo lets out a loud scream that nearly sent his friend toppling in the nearby stream of water. Kazuha looks on with slightly wide eyes as the other man jumps to his feet, violet eyes gleaming.

“Oh, right! I plan to initiate another challenge!”

Another challenge…

Kazuha closes his eyes with a hum, “I do hope you’ll last another. You’ve been faced with the worst of the worst.”

The chuckles that leave his friend’s lips are excited and sort of expectant.

“It’s going to be the ultimate one of all! So if you’ll excuse me~”

Perhaps a talk with your brother will do you both good.

You’ve both been acting like strangers walking on eggshells underneath the same house and it is driving you insane.

He’s not even looking you in the eye anymore!

Given his quiet personality, confrontation will be difficult, but he’s a cooperative person. Besides, he always hears you out.

There isn’t any reason for him not to when he knows that this will be done only for the betterment of the future.

So, with a nervous disposition but eager heart to settle things right, you lift the basket from its place with plans to head over to the market. It’s an hour or two before dusk, just the perfect time to shop for dinner.

“Mm.. some dry-braised salted fish for tonight sounds lovely.” You muse, remembering how the dish is your brother’s favorite.

Ah, the number of tries he takes to perfect and stylish it into his own can’t be forgotten.

It doesn’t take too long to cook it, but you’ll be making tons of other side dishes and dessert, so it’s best to start early!

You exit the abode, the smile on your face present as ever even when you’re greeted outside by a couple of Shogunate Soldiers. Their features appear sterner, their hold on their naginata rock solid.

“Are you Kaedehara [Name]?”

Hm?

“Yes. Can I help you?”

The soldiers lunge forward, spears falling to a position pointing at you from all possible angles, cutting any means of escape as you furrow your brows.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Your brother has defied the Decree of the Shogun and was hereby declared a criminal. Going against an Imperial Decree results in punishment inclusive to his immediate family.”

Your basket falls to the ground.

Thud!

Kazuha’s feet create a loud sound following his landing, a breath of panic expelling past as he rushes away.

The warmth in his hand escalates to a scalding degree, burning and searing like the fading power of Electro held within the golden casing.

To think that that was what Tomo meant.. !

He does not feel anger, no, just the burn of desperation and want to hide his friend’s Vision because he doesn’t want it to be taken away—to be placed in that statue that displays the lost ambitions of many others.

He’ll be damned before the Shogunate can take it… !

The criminal evades those at his tail, making swift maneuvers on rooftops and alleys without a second thought.

His limbs are answering his every command, be it to duck, to jump—or to even draw his blade.

He is still ways away from the port but getting there won’t prove to be too complex for someone like him. He’s cut down plenty of the samurai in his escape from Tenshukaku.

Tomo…

“You’re family. Tell her.”

Family—

“This is the first one in a long time I’ve heard of it being extended-! To whom again? The clan that has lost its prestige a decade ago, right?” he almost trips in his sprinting, darting to an alleyway so he can further eavesdrop.

Did I hear that correctly?

A relieved sigh escapes when those chasing him run past his hiding spot.

Sucking in his breath, the silverette tightens his grip on the faded Vision of his best friend as he listens in the hushed conversation.

“Be quiet!” someone hisses, “If someone overhears us, what next? Still, I do feel bad.. they lost so much already. I can’t believe they’d drag an innocent person into it, too..”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do. The Shogun issued the penalty to immediate families, right? As far as I know, there are only two Kaedeharas left—”

Kazuha feels his heart stopping. Kaede..hara?

There’s no mistaking it.

But why—?

Why would a punishment meant for him extend to her?

She’s innocent!

Going off-course, he sprints in the direction of his house.

The house that he lives in with his sister who takes great care of him—the same sister he’s willing to leave in favor of chasing what he wants in life.

He’s willing to, but he doesn’t.

Because perhaps—perhaps if he stayed and buried his desire, then he will amount to the same greatness she has done for him.

But he cannot stand it, either. As patient as he is, as kind and ‘gentle’, [Name] can always see through his face.

He’s always been antsy—always itching to wander and he’s stumped that his sister is well-aware of that fact. Still, she’s always playing the ignorant one, pretending not to care- still coddling him as if he’s little and he’s had… enough of it.

But now that the situation has pinned this misfortune upon them, the ronin realizes that she’s only pretending for his sake, as well.

“Cut that out, I don’t need it. I fear that.. you will only embarrass yourself.”

Wasn’t it him who refused to tell her of his want to roam free in the first place?

“I understand that I am your brother—but there is no need to worry over me all the time. I can look after myself, [Name]. Do worry about something else, instead.”

Wasn’t it him who stuck around, still?

The bitterness in his tongue increases with each leap of his feet. He doesn’t even process the race of his heart as he’s carried through the same path that leads him home.

To his family—to his only sister.

Everything seems to pass by slowly, in a blur, like the specks that decorate his vision the more his mind throws stacks and stacks of memories. This is madness.

Complete and utter madness.

He rounds the corner to see the figure of his only sibling, her back turned to him—she cannot see him, but he can see the armed soldiers flanking around her.

His throat tightens and certainly, he wouldn’t have been able to utter a word due to how it feels like his throat has been crushed.

“[Name]!”

Yet, the furious scream that tears past his lips denies all kinds of ‘impossibility’ the instant he sees the female falling to the ground, the sight of red splatter making him draw his blade.

Whoosh!

The summoned wind is opposingly gentle to the brewing storm in someone’s beautiful carmine eyes.

“[Name]-.. !”

That voice.. Kazuha?

Sometimes, the depth of emotion in Kazuha’s eyes is too deep for you to understand. Despite being so silent, he’s so, so expressive with his stares.

That even when he isn’t trembling when he lifts your torso, you know how much he’s quaking from within.

“What are you.. doing here? You have to go,” you cough red when he adjusts you in his arms, the sight of the fallen soldiers reminding you of the situation at hand.

“Quick—before they.. catch you.”

He shakes his head,

“I’m taking you with me, I have a boat prepared, come, let’s—”

“Don’t lie to me, Kazuha.”

He pauses, flitting his gaze down to meet yours. You hate how you can’t seem to focus on him, though.

Your sight is blurring in and out, only providing small intervals of clarity where you can see the panic in his features.

A sight you didn’t think you’d see on him until now.

“I know you made it for yourself. You’ve been planning to leave home, weren’t you? I’m not..” you’re not oblivious to his wish, “I’m not mad. I was only holding you back, wasn’t I?”

He sucks in a breath.

“I-I-“

What was he supposed to say?

Weakly tapping his arm, you start taking quick breaths—just to take in all the air you can while tolerating the gaping wound from being impaled.

It hurts. You want to scream. It hurts.

But you don’t—because you do not want to appear weak to your brother.

You promised mother and father that you will not cry when faced with problems—he mustn’t see, Kazuha mustn’t see.

But at this moment, you just want to break apart. Disbelief is kicking in, you can’t believe this is happening.

When—where did everything go wrong?

“Besides, I’m not of use to you anymore. As if I’ll last the journey to Liyue-“

“Don’t say that!”

You blink owlishly, gasping out in pain when his hand presses against your wound, futilely attempting to hold back the bleeding.

“K-Kazuha?”

Your own hand shakily plants itself atop his own, helping him press—as if his hand isn’t heavy enough to stop the flow—it down.

It will hurt, but you can’t say for sure. You’ve already grown numb and your head is swimming.

Still, you focus on him.

Still, you help him apply pressure even if you know—even if he knows—that it’s too late.

“Don’t say that. You’ve..” his voice cracks, “You’ve done so much, [Name], you-“

You took over the clan household when our parents died. You struggled to make ends meet for both of us. And yet.. all I do.. all I do is… !

Kazuha angrily bites on his lip, his hold on his composure beginning to slip as his mind throws in a reel of olden days.

“I’m leaving, [Name]. Please don’t wait up, I may take longer.”

“I’m grateful, but I don’t need that anymore.”

“Stop that, already.”

He dips his head with a muffled cry. All I do is wander and desire for a future where I can roam freely. I haven’t even thought of you..!

“You’ve grown, Kazuha,” he snaps back into this harsh reality when he feels the hand atop his disappear, presently moving to brush his messy locks.

He doesn’t know why all of a sudden his sight is becoming misty, but perhaps—perhaps it is because he remembers when his sister used to brush his hair the same way with a loving smile.

It is the same touch he flees from nowadays.

The same touch now—the same loving smile.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right—you’ve grown so much.. and I’m still clinging onto the past.”

So lively, so beautiful and yet—

“You’re strong now..”

Yet it’s dying.

He presses harder on his sibling’s wound, almost sadistically—as if he’s hoping that it’ll ignite a painful reaction. “[Name], please, let me-“

Because if it hurt—then it means she’s still okay. She’s still responding.

“So capable.. so independent, you are.”

So why—? He almost chokes out a sob. Why are you not reacting to it!?

“Mother and father would be so proud of you. I am sorry if I was lacking in any way.”

“Please, [Name], you can’t do this.”

He trembles, the composure he created so, so close to breaking as he gives up on endeavors that are pointless, to begin with.

Instead, he tilts his head up, wishing to curse the heavens above.

For everything.

“I’m happy to be your sister, and.. I’m proud of you… Kazu..”

“Wait-“ he stumbles over his words, catching the falling hand of his sibling and registering how deathly pale she has gotten in a matter of seconds. “Wait, please—I-“

As much as he wants to voice out he’s sorry..

For many things; for turning his back on her, for being distant when all they have is each other, he’s unable to find his voice when he sees the tears dripping out of his sister’s [c] eyes.

His strong older sister—weeping. It’s the first time he has seen her cry.

Her smile trembles—

“I love you. My nice.. little.. brother.”

—And her [c]s are then hidden forever.

The way she endearingly called him in her dying breath has him freezing, his heart pausing as if he had died along with her.

But then the spark of pain welcomes him back to reality—to life.

And then he is leaning over her.

“[Name]..” breathless whispers escalate into panicked murmurs. “[Name]?”

His heart is pounding in his chest as he tries to shake her awake, like when he’d do when he’s eight and awake from an awful dream.

“Nee-san.. can I sleep by your side tonight?”

And although her [c] eyes are tired, she will still smile. “Okay.”

And she’d keep watch over him the whole night.

He’s reminded of it when he hopelessly shakes her awake, to no obvious avail. But he keeps grasping her arms, anyway, like he used to many years ago.

But things are different now.

“[Name]—[N-Name]!?”

He said it himself—he’s no longer a child.

“Please, don’t leave me- I- you’re all I have left!” The ronin’s composure finally breaks loose and his tears begin landing like a profuse waterfall. His uncontained sobs remain unheard.

This time, there is no one to wake him up from his nightmares.

“No—no, no- no, please..!” Kazuha weeps as he holds his sister’s cold hand, shakily pressing it to his forehead, imitating the sweet action she has always given him. A hand on his head, on his shoulder—or on his cheek if he’s tearful.

“You can’t!”

She’ll tell him not to be sad because it’ll make her sad, too.

And he’ll hurriedly wipe his tears because ‘no! big sister mustn’t feel sad because of me!’.

Then [Name] will muster a smile as bright as the sun and hold his face in her warm hands, and press a kiss on his forehead.

He’ll get red and thrash around, whining, ‘onee-san!’. And about how embarrassing it is so she mustn’t do it anymore.

Now, he is holding her hand in his own, trying to remember the same warmth it emitted just a day ago. Just a few hours ago. How long has it been?

And when he doesn’t feel the warmth—when he doesn’t remember the warmth, when all he feels is the cold and the obvious lack of love, Kazuha breaks apart.

His heart squeezes and his tears spill more, his lips parting to release the honorific he has dropped a long, long time ago. “Nee-san!”

“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,”

“Onee-san!”

“My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”

“Onee-san!”

I’m calling you. He cries, like a picture of misery. So why aren’t you waking up? Sister! He cries, like a heartbroken child.

The winds around him pick up, warning him of incoming men sent to apprehend and penalize him the same way they did to his sibling.

It’s suffocating—maddening, even, and he wants to tear them all down himself.

But [Name] wouldn’t like that.

So, with a muted cry and bolster of willpower, he tears himself from the body of his kin, trembling.

He can hear the thundering steps of the samurai as he hurries to untangle the same black and red scarf [Name] has once attempted to give him. The same fabric he has rejected.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry.” he hugs her with all his might, with his soul, and with his heart before he’s back up on his feet and running. I love you, too, nee-san.

“Get him!” someone roars from behind.

And although he wishes to turn and slice them away, he couldn’t—because he’d be seeing the fallen figure of the same person he had neglected to cherish.

So, instead, he nestles the scarf around his neck whilst clutching onto the Vision of his friend.

Down the path, he runs.

Years ago, he will be accompanied by the people he loves, chasing a faraway future.

Now he is running on the same path alone, running after a dream that can now be turned into reality.

Far from Inazuma.

Far from home.

a/n: did it hurt-

@lehra @melkxsh

bonus angst sketch

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Return to the Scrying Glass　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[blueraspberrymilkshake]

how about kyman with the prompt "do it, i dare you"?

Okay, I just want to apologize to @lochnessmonster for taking so long to post this prompt. Work has been a pain in the ass and I wanted to make this oneshot really good one. And it is! So I hope you enjoy this 2k+ ‘ficlet’! Heads up, this story has a lot of saliva references and Butters torture. I also made this one-sided K2, whoops, lmao.

~x~

“Do it, I dare you.”

Cartman said it so provokingly after Kyle let out a ’what?’ after hearing the brunette’s proposal. No, not that kind of proposal. 

Cartman dared Kyle to kiss Kenny. On the lips.

While the blond was sitting right next to him. In front of everyone in the room. 

“Okay. This is unexpected,” Stan retorted.

And he was right. In the past two hours, the teenagers were having a normal sleepover at Stan’s household (which had a severe lack of two parental figures since forever, resulting in underaged drinking on Stan’s part); and in the past thirty-five minutes Kyle wanted to play 'truth or dare’ and since then the other boys had done the most absurd tasks. 

Stan was given a wet willy by Craig’s middle finger.

Craig confessed he would still pee on the bed at the tender age of fifteen (Stan quickly left and came back from the bathroom and dropped a bucket of cleaning utensils waiting for him in the morning).

Cartman had to shove ice cubes inside his sleep pants and let it melt on his own sleeping bag.

Kenny had to impersonate a police officer while prank-calling Darryl Weathers (the boys later found out that the crazy man had recently went skinny-dipping at Stark’s Pond right after drunk driving and nearly ran over an unidentified child).

The other blond had it the worst. Butters had to find any undergarments Shelly left in her old room and wear them on his head. He could only find a worn out pair of brief panties. And to add fuel to the fire, he had to let his friends take pictures of him and share them with their friends… and his father.

Fast forward to the present, and all of the aforementioned highlights would’ve been better for Kyle. Hell, sticking a twig inside his dick sounded much less humiliating than kissing his friend. And that says a lot. 

Kyle blinked his eyes, still blindsided from Cartman’s request. “No, I’m sorry, did you just-”

“God, Kyle, do I have to repeat myself? I dare you to kiss Kenny!”

“I-I change my mind! Truth!”

“Nuh-uh,” said Cartman, wagging his finger. “You can’t change a truth or dare. Ain’t that right Craig?”

The dark-haired teen cleared his dry throat, trying to maintain his composure. “Y-you did came up with that rule yourself, Kyle.”

“See? Told ya." 

Kyle internally cursed at himself. Why did he insist on making every game so challenging? "I am not kissing him, Eric.”

“You have to. It’s a dare,” Cartman sneered.

“Why not dare Stan? Or Butters? Hell, even Craig seems more willing to do this!”

“Dude! No!”

“I have a boyfriend, asswipe.”

“And I still have my dignity, thank you very much,” Butters remarked ironically, adjusting the waistband of his newly given headwear. 

Two seconds later a small jingle left Craig’s phone, signaling the notifications he earned. As he checked his phone he snickered.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your picture got over a thousand likes on my Instagram, dude,” he even replied to one of the comments, “Why yes, those are menstrual stains.”

“A thousand?!” Butters shouted in agony, his face became sweating and his pupils wander around the room but nothing made him calm yet. “Oh God, is Charlotte going to see this?! I need to come up with a good dare, and quick!”

“Shut up, you guys!” the impatient Cartman interjected, with his head turning towards Craig and Butters.

“Alright, let’s get on with it, people,” he continued, snapping his fingers directly at his other two friends.

The older teen huffed, arms crossed as a form of protest. He wasn’t about to hear it.

“Kyle,” the taller boy leaned just a little closer, his tone low and browbeat, “your ass was going on and on and on about wanting to smooch a guy, and now’s your chance.”

Kyle’s eyes snapped back open, clearly outraged that Cartman would bring this up. He admitted to his friends he was questioning his sexuality; wondering if he liked boys as much as he liked girls. That was several months ago, and since then he would continue living his life with nary a definite conclusion. He should’ve known the taller boy would bring up personal information for his own gain.

“I didn’t know you’re bi-curious, too!” Butters beamed.

“Mhmm,” Cartman hummed. “And don’t act like you two haven’t done anything gay before. I haven’t forgotten the whole 'ookie mouth’ thing.”

“Ookie mouth?” Butters repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“We were eight!” exclaimed Kyle.

“And painfully inexperienced,” Kenny added with a hint of disappointment, earning him a glare from his former playmate.

“And now…” Cartman raised his two index fingers towards his chest and brought his digits together, “…you two can finally share each other’s saliva properly,” he punctuated his sentence by closing his hands together.

“Oh, dear God,” Kyle groaned, covering his face in embitterment. 

“You guys had to share saliva?” Butters gave off a mischievous look, his thumb and index finger on his chin. “Hmm.”

“Don’t even think about it, Butters,” remarked Stan.

“Why are you doing this to me? I don’t even like Kenny like that.”

“I saw the way you looked at him the other day. You were so focused on that sexy face of his, huh? You even smiled at him!”

“I was helping him study for our Final, you idiot.”

“It doesn’t matter. You could’ve said no. But something inside you said otherwise.”

“Eric, for the last time, I am not doing this. You better find something else for me to do.”

“Dude,” Kenny responded, his hand landing on Kyle’s shoulder. “let’s just get this over with.”

“You’re going along with this,” the frustrated teen assumed in a deadpan tone.

“Y'all know I never back down from a challenge,” said the smug boy, showing off a sincere grin.  “And compared to the other shit we’ve done tonight, Fatass is practically being nice to us. Besides, It’s not like he’s asking for a full-blown make out session.”

Kyle thought about this long and slow, and he snarled at Cartman. The brunette just raised an eyebrow, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. Kyle pursed his lips together, and finally gave up.

“Just a peck.”

Kenny nodded in agreement.

“Soooo?” Cartman was lying on his stomach, his feet in the air, and not caring for the remnant wet spot from his own dare. “Who’s gonna make the first move?”

Stan let out a forced cough and took another sip out of his can. 

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Kyle suggested abruptly. 

Each faced their open palms towards each other before placing their fists on top. When they drew the first time, they both had scissors.

“Best two out of three.”

They drew again, they chose rock.

They drew again, they chose scissors.

They drew again, they chose paper.

“How are you guys doing that?” Stan questioned.

And they drew again and again and again, but continue to reveal the same illusive weapon.

“Jesus Christ!” Cartman yelled, reaching towards the work desk and quickly found what he needed.  “Here!” A dime in front of Kenny’s face, the light from the ceiling causing the coin to glow in front of Kenny’s face. “Just flip a coin.”

“I-I call tails,” Kyle blurted out, just as the blond snatched the shiny object.

Kenny flipped the coin and caught it when it fell on the back of his palm. It landed on tails.

Kyle really wished he had some of Stan’s beer. 

“Alright Kyle, time to kiss yo’ man!” Cartman taunted. He was practically bouncing from excitement, and it wasn’t just from the ice cubes.

The redhead said nothing and instead sat still, taking the time to stay calm before he could look at his chosen participant.

“Look Kyle, we don’t have to-” suddenly Kyle placed a finger on the other boy’s lips, signaling him to stop.

“Why are changing your mind now? I thought you said you’d never back down from a challenge.”

Kenny was taken aback from his friend’s sudden change of inclination. He opened his mouth trying to find the right words, but the other teen beat him to it. “Come here.”

Kenny’s cheeks became redder and hotter as Kyle’s cold hands took hold of them. 

’If Fatass wants a show, I’ll give him a show’, the redhead thought.

Kyle took a deep breath before pressing his lips onto Kenny’s. He assumed the blond’s lips would be dry and chapped from the cold weather but instead they were soft and moist, but not from his own spit. Cartman must’ve had a play in this, because Kenny was wearing cherry flavored chapstick; the only person who liked that flavor was Cartman himself. He felt Kenny loosen up and give in to the passive kiss. Keeping his eyes shut, he let his hands wander at Kenny’s back - one hand gently grabbing strands of unkempt hair while the other stopped at his neck - pulling the other boy further onto him. 

“Uh… guys?” said Stan, finally speaking up, but his voice quickly became white noise. Craig gestured at the other boy, placing a finger on his lips, as he was quietly recording what’s left of this unforgettable dare.

Kyle captured his lips again, and again, and again, portraying himself as some touch-starved virgin; he could’ve sworn he felt Kenny’s mouth curve into a smile.

“Guys, you can stop now. Guys!”

“Welp, it’s a good thing I brought these,” Craig used his free hand to reach into his back pocket and a short pack of condoms fell on the floor.

“Craig!”

Thankfully for Stan, Kyle broke the kiss before this oneshot exceeds its PG-13 rating. When he opened his eyes again, he was met with a blankly inscrutable Kenny, his fingers lightly brushing his lips. Kyle’s eyes searched around the room, and everyone remained speechless. 

Stan ran a hand onto his raven-colored hair, clearly distressed of what he had just witnessed. “Holy shit, dude.”

Cartman blinked, as if he knew what he was going to say but couldn’t, and soon suppressed giggles evolve into raucous laughter. He was literally rolling on the floor as he does so, hardly attempting to regain his posture.

“Oh my - oh my God,” Cartman wiped his eyes as he tried to breathe. “You guys really did it!”

“Yeah!” Butters chimed in. “How embarrassing!” His snickering ceased as a buzz from his phone went off. He wasn’t too happy with his text.

“Oh jeez. My dad saw the pictures,” he bowed his head in shame. “He says I’ll be grounded when I get home.”

Kyle let out a long sigh. “I’m gonna rinse my mouth, now.”

And just like that, he promptly excused himself from the bedroom.

Everyone remained silent until Craig broke the ice. It was his turn after all. “Butters, truth or dare?”

~x~

After he was done using the bathroom, Kyle decided to get a bottle of soda to help wash down the aftertaste of Kenny’s mouth. When he took it from the refrigerator, Cartman was already stepping into the kitchen.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kyle was pouring his drink into a plastic cup.

“My plan worked, didn’t it?” The brunette smirked.

Kyle pulled away from his own cup as the words processed through his head. “I knew it.”

“Don’t be like that, Kyle.” Cartman replied, hoping his own words would reassure the other boy. “No one will be able to recognize… this thing between us. Everyone will think you and Kenny have a thing.”

“Is that why you invited Craig and Butters? Just so they can have something to gossip?”

“Well, it’s hard for anyone believe anything Butters says out of his mouth,” the brunette sat next to the shorter guy, grabbing the bottle. “But with Craig, it’s nearly impossible to take no for an answer. I also wanted to see Butters make an ass out of himself tonight.”

Cartman removed the bottle cap; he was about to himself out before Kyle firmly grabbed his wrist.

“You’re not going to drink off the bottle, are you?”

“You took the last cup.”

“That doesn’t mean you can taint the soda with your backwash.”

The boy next to him scoffed. “Can I at least take a sip from your cup?”

Cartman was given the cup, and in return he gave Kyle a ludic stroke on his chin.

“Thanks, babe.”

Kyle rolled his eyes and smiled. He made sure he would get his cup back before Cartman could leave him with a single drop.

“I’m glad this whole thing is taken care of,” Cartman replied.

“There are better ways to keep our relationship a secret, dude,” said Kyle.

“Don’t worry,” Cartman nudged his arm. “This whole fiasco will die down in less than two months…maybe,” he stated his remark like it was supposed to make his boyfriend feel better. “…And now that Kenny’s got his wish he’ll stop vexing me.”

'His wish…’ it didn’t take Kyle to figure that one out on his own. “Kenny’s crushing on me, isn’t he?”

“What do you think?”

This all made perfect sense now.

“Cartman? Truth or dare?”

“Truth?”

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Cartman didn’t say anything… yet. Kyle had already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear him say it. 

“Of the kiss? Of Kenny liking me? You thought that he was going to steal me away from you?" 

The brunette nodded his head but eventually answered the question, so faintly that Kyle could barely listen to it. He didn’t have to worry, though; because it was enough to earn him a tender kiss from his boyfriend. Unlike his last encounter, the redhead took his time on this particular person; the same person who had made him feel all types of ways but still managed to steal his heart. Kyle didn’t remove his hands when he parted ways, and instead they slid onto broad shoulders. He would never say it out loud, but kissing Kenny wasn’t as bad as he thought. However, the blond could never compete with the juxtaposition of silkier, shaved skin and softer, chestnut hair and chubbier cheeks and straightened, white teeth and the scent of coconut body wash, the list goes on and on. No one could ever take his place.

Their trance was broken when they heard a yell from upstairs.

"Jesus, Craig, there’s spit in my eye!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Butters!”

Kyle leered at Cartman when he started cackling, only to join in mere seconds later. 

“C'mon, you gaywad…” Kyle punched him playfully, “before they catch us.”

The best come back the other boy could come up with was, “Likewise, buttmunch.”

Cartman watched his boyfriend wander back towards the stairs before following suit.