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Summary
Cartman wasn’t a man of spiritual awakenings.
He believed in food, in vengeance, and in making Kyle Broflovski’s life a living hell (in the most loving, passive-aggressive way possible). He did not believe in miracles.
Until the day he saw it.
It happened on a lazy Sunday afternoon in their apartment. Kyle had just returned from a grocery run, climbing up onto the kitchen counter to retrieve a bag of coffee filters they definitely didn’t need but Kyle insisted on buying “just in case.”
And that was when Cartman saw it.
A strip. A faint, perfect, soft trail of ginger fuzz, peeking out from under Kyle’s slightly lifted t-shirt and leading down past the waistband of his sweats.
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Bookmark Notes:
His lips curled into a lazy, possessive grin. “Mine,” he whispered, reverent and smug.
Kyle blinked down at him, chest heaving, caught between exasperation and fondness. “You’re such a freak,” he muttered, voice hoarse.
“Yeah, but I’m yours,” Cartman murmured, pressing a slow, messy kiss to Kyle’s stomach. “And don’t you forget it.”
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“I have hobbies,” Cartman said, offended. “I just also happen to worship the ginger line of destiny peeking out of your waistband.”
“You’re such a freak.”
“I’m your freak.”
That earned him a twitch of Kyle’s mouth—an almost-smile—and a deep, exhausted sigh that sounded a lot like fondness.
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“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
Cartman grinned, triumphant. “Then show me the trail, Kyle.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“C’mon, just once. I promise I won’t even touch it—just pure, reverent observation.”
Kyle sighed, but his lips twitched. “You said that last time and tried to kiss it.”
“And I regret nothing.”
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“I’ve been thinking,” Cartman said, leaning against the doorframe like he was about to deliver a TED Talk. “We should grow it out.”
Kyle spat out toothpaste and stared at him. “What, we ? It’s my body.”
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AHHHH SO GOOD SO DOMESTIC
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