AN: More Mysterion/Human Kite, although it's Mysterion/retired Human Kite here. I realize my universe isn't totally consistent - sometimes they've always known each others' identities, sometimes not. Enjoy!
Kyle Broflovski doesn't jump when he hears footsteps in his apartment, despite the fact that he's the only one with a key. He didn't hear his door open or his window shatter, but this wouldn't be the first time someone has mysteriously broken into his house without leaving any sign of their entrance. He wonders how the mysterious stranger does it sometimes, but has learned not to ask too many questions. He leaves when Kyle gets nosy, and Kyle can't bear the idea of him going back to the streets. He wishes the guy had a handgun or some form of weaponry other than the handmade, vigilante shit that he and the rest of the masked heroes carry as protection. He wishes he could beg him to hang up the mask, but he would run from that suggestion, too. And Kyle wants him to stay. He can't help himself.
Kyle is in love with Mysterion.
Mysterion steps into the living room, breathing heavily and clutching his side. Kyle turns away from the stove to calmly access the damage.
"What happened?" he asks, careful to keep the worry and concern from his voice. The other man comes here for apathetic assistance, not tender loving care. Shadowed blue eyes glare back at him and he abandons the question, sighing and heading towards the bathroom to get a towel and some medical supplies.
When Kyle returns, he raises an eyebrow at the vigilante, holding up bandages from his inspection. He's frowning, but removes the top half of his suit, careful to leave his hood tight around his face. What he does reveal is covered with scars and bruises, some healing and some freshly made. The gash in his side looks like a knife wound, bleeding heavily and likely to scar, but not life threatening. Of all the town's superheroes and super villains, Mysterion seems to take the hardest hits, always taking on the more deadly tasks while the Coon, Toolshed, and others like them prefer to work the minor heists and unarmed robberies. Once upon a time, Kyle had been in their ranks, but he couldn't keep up the lifestyle. He wanted a job and a family some day, and he learned quickly that being the Human Kite by night wasn't exactly conducive to performing well at work and meeting men. And Mysterion came to him regardless of whether or not he was wearing a mask.
"You'll live," Kyle sighs, holding a damp cloth to the cut to wash the blood away. Mysterion nods silently, holding his breath as Kyle applies an antiseptic. "Sorry it stings. It'll prevent infection."
He allows his hands to brush against the man's skin more often than is necessary, something he's sure Mysterion must notice. He doesn't comment or flinch away, so Kyle continues the habit, the only connection he's ever allowed to have with the masked stranger. Why he fell in love with a superhero is beyond him. He used to be so practical.
"I have work tomorrow," he mentions as he wraps his ribs tightly, pressing against them to check for more serious damage. Mysterion winces a little and whether that is from an injury or guilt over keeping Kyle awake, he doesn't know. "Did that hurt?"
"It's not broken," Mysterion decides, finally speaking in that low, gravelly voice Kyle knows doesn't really belong to him. He takes his word for it – he must be quite the expert on injury by now – and continues his job as the man's personal nurse, thanking the higher powers that medical school adequately prepared him for this.
After he's done tending to him and Mysterion seems cleaner and in less pain, he sighs, raising himself back to his full height and meeting the other's gaze. His shadowy blue eyes say volumes. He looks tired. He looks weak. He looks nothing like the strong superhero he's made himself out to be, probably growing weary of his job after all these years. He'd started when he was just a kid. He probably hasn't had a proper amount of sleep in ages, balancing his daytime life with this nightmare.
Kyle leans closer to the hooded man before he can stop himself, noting that he's not pulling away. He watches as darkened blue eyes are drawn down to his lips and a chill of excitement goes up his spine. The man is extraordinarily beautiful, even with a mask covering half his face. They're practically breathing each other's air now and Kyle feels like he could count the millimeters he would need to push forward to brush his lips against the superhero's.
"Kyle," the masked man whispers, sounding hoarse and uncertain. "This is a bad idea."
"Please," he murmurs in return, lifting a hand to Mysterion's face. He flinches away and takes a step back, his hand flying to his mask protectively.
"You… you don't even know who I am."
The redhead stares at him incredulously, shaking his head. "How could I not?"
"I'm not Stan, Kyle," he tells him, almost explosively, as if he's been both longing to tell him and dreading it at the same time.
"You know I'm not hoping that you are," Kyle says, giving him the same little sympathetic smile that he always gives him when his bitterness about Stan Marsh boils up, both in costume and out.
Mysterion's face stays set in his firm expression, but Kyle notices the tension leave his shoulders. "You don't know who I am," he repeats.
"Mysterion, I've known you since kindergarten. You thought I wouldn't recognize your eyes, your hands, the way you move? I notice those things, coupled with the fact that you never seem to die, no matter how many bullets you take in the chest," Kyle says with a wry smile. "I've always known you were Mysterion. Just like you always knew I was the Human Kite."
"Kyle, I can't. There are people-"
"No. I've never asked you for anything. I let you come here night after night, beat up and bruised and even close to death, and I do my best to help you. I've never asked you to admit to me who you are, never asked you to stop risking your life no matter how concerned I am. And I've worked with you. I've watched you die, you asshole." Kyle grabs the front of his cape and yanks him closer. "I've never asked for anything before. So give me this."
Mysterion only pauses for a moment before crushing their lips together, and Kyle's waited so long and wanted so badly that he sobs out a moan against his mouth, quickly throwing his arms around the hero's neck before he can change his mind.
He doesn't appear to be doing anything of the sort, however, and Kyle feels strong hands wander to his thighs before he's being lifted up and his legs are being forced around Mysterion's waist. Kyle soon feels the cold surface of the kitchen counter underneath him as Mysterion continues to ravish his mouth with his own. A gloved hand slides up his back into his fiery hair and grips a handful to tilt his head and take control of the kiss. The other hand goes to the small of his back, pulling him forward on the counter until they're flush against one another, fitting like long separated pieces of a puzzle.
"I'm sorry," he gasps as he pulls away, and his voice is the one Kyle knows now. He rests his forehead against the redhead's, breathing heavily, his eyes tightly closed as if he's in pain. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't-" Kyle tries to stop him.
"No," he says firmly, his impossibly blue eyes meeting Kyle's. "I've made you wait for so long."
"You've waited, too," Kyle insists, wanting so badly to pull the cape away and run his fingers through straw blonde hair. As delighted as he is that the boundaries are crumbling, he knows that these are steps Mysterion needs to take for himself. Kyle's never seen him close to another person, especially a lover, in either of his personas. Knocking down the wall himself could send him running. "Back in the day, I was the only one you agreed to work with."
"You were smarter than the rest of those idiots that call themselves heroes," Mysterion tells him through gritted teeth, and Kyle can recognize a shot at Stan when he hears one.
"I saw you looking at me. Both in costume and out," Kyle continues, feeling more apprehensive as the hero steadily returns his stare. "You… you wanted me then, too, didn't you? I just always thought-"
Mysterion chuckles darkly. "Kyle. I've wanted you since high school."
Kyle smiles and leans in to kiss him again, but he pulls back.
"I need…" he starts, looking almost embarrassed. "I need to know that you want me. Not just Mysterion. Because Mysterion and I are, unfortunately, a package deal."
"As sexy as you are in this costume," Kyle starts, bringing their foreheads together. "I've kind of been in love with this one blond kid for a while." He winks at him, feeling a little silly. "Sorry if that makes things awkward between us."
The masked hero in front of him sighs in relief and captures his lips again, this time bringing a hand up to touch his cheek. That raw, passionate heat is gone, replaced by love and a gentler kind of desire. He tucks a few of the more wayward red curls behind his ear, tracing the shell of it delicately. Kyle shudders at the feeling, pressing against him more firmly now, needing to feel something solid. He's been obsessed with this intangible hero and the untouchable person underneath his costume for so long that he's developed a physical need for true contact. When Mysterion pulls away, their eyes lock, and Kyle wonders how he ever thought he didn't know who those eyes belonged to.
"If you happen to see him, the blond," he begins. He wants to sound playful, but his voice comes out breathless. "Tell him that I'd really love to see him tonight."
Uncertainty flickers in those shadowed eyes again and Kyle punches him lightly in the arm.
"Kenny. I love you."
Mysterion let out a desperate moan before his hands come up to his hood and yank it down, revealing mused blonde hair. Kyle's heartbeat quickens and there's suddenly a blur of hands and lips, Kyle immediately sinking his fingers into the blond locks. Kenny's lips are fire-hot against his, all the passion of their first kiss returning as Kenny easily demands dominance. As they kiss, Kyle's mouth obediently opening underneath Kenny's, the redhead is aware of his fingers brushing against the knot securing the hero's mask behind his head. He pulls at the strings until they unravels and immediately throws the mask to the side, pulling back to stare into his new lover's eyes.
Kenny's eyes are lust darkened and half lidded, staring back at Kyle as if he's the most perfect thing Kenny has ever seen. As if Kyle is deserving of worship in front of the other man, who is all lean muscle, chiseled facial features, and shockingly blue eyes. As long as Kyle has known him, Kenny has always emitted a sort of unconscious and blatant sexuality, while Mysterion was nothing but a calm exterior and obvious confidence. And, despite Kenny's best efforts, they have both always been exceptionally sweet hearted.
"You have no idea how badly I've always wanted to just… touch you," Kenny says, blunt and honest as always. He looks down at his hands as if he has just noticed his gloves.
"Fuck," he curses, fumbling with the gloves, seeming desperate to get them off. Kyle quickly rids him of his left one while Kenny bites down on the fingertip of the other and rips it off. With both hands free, he brings them up to Kyle's face, adopting a look of concentration as he traces the other's boy's features and feels the texture of his hair.
"Christ, you're so soft," Kenny mutters, leaning in replace the fingers on Kyle's cheek with his lips.
Kyle chuckles weakly, pulling Kenny's hand between his legs. "I'm not, actually."
The blond looks mildly surprised by Kyle's forwardness, but immediately rubs him through his jeans. Kyle groans, tilting his head back as Kenny's kisses descend down his throat.
"Kenny," he murmurs, loving the feel of his mouth around the name. Kenny, Kenny, Kenny.
Suddenly, there are hands under his thighs again and he's being lifted up.
"Bedroom," Kenny says as an explanation, grinning, and then their lips don't part again until they fall back against the sheets.
When Kyle wakes up, still sweaty and only half covered by the sheets, he's alone again. He has a moment of panic where he wonders if he just had a lovely dream, that he actually fell asleep before he could make dinner and Kenny actually just stayed home last night or died once again in some spectacular display of heroism. But the memories are too vivid and the place next to him looks well slept in. He shifts in bed and winces, deciding, no, it definitely couldn't have been a dream because he certainly didn't have sex with himself last night.
He lets himself fall back against the pillows, staring forlornly at the ceiling. He is a little surprised that Kenny left. Mysterion leaves, not Kenny. But like Kenny said, the two are a package deal. Kyle's heart sinks as he tries to make himself accept the idea of waking up alone for the rest of his life. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he could get a cat.
His phone buzzes and he practically dives for it. "NEW TXT MSG from Ken" it reads on the display, and Kyle's heart climbs back up into its normal position in his chest.
"morning, beautiful! get ur fine ass over to my place tonite. i got dinner if u got movie tickets"
Kyle rolls his eyes, but smiles, rolling out of bed and reluctantly heading for the shower. And as he relaxes and closes his eyes under the hot water, he finds himself picturing not a hood and cape, but playful light blue eyes and a crooked grin, and he thinks maybe he was never really in love with Mysterion after all.