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The walk over to Cartman’s backyard is long and treacherous, mostly because Kyle is pretty sure he’s going to suffer a heat stroke if the game goes on much longer.
He's got a plastic water bottle strapped to his belt, sure, but the robe he's wearing was his father's before he took it over as a kid, and Gerald has always been a chilly kind of guy. At least it's soft to the touch, Kyle thinks when he makes his way past some bushes, grabbing the ends of the robe so it wouldn't get torn. Nobody in his family uses it other than the Elf King, but he's not going to let that be an excuse to ruin a perfectly good article of clothing.
Since when did Cartman have thorn bushes in his backyard anyways?
"Halt!"
Kyle’s attention is directed towards the guy standing in front of him when a wooden sword is pointed in his direction to stop him from walking. A brief glance confirms his barrier to be Stan, cape fastened to his shoulders by a pin this time, rather than wrapped around his neck. He adorns the shoulder gear of his football uniform underneath, the name of which escapes Kyle at the moment, and Kyle has to admit it makes him pretty threatening. He raises his golf club in acknowledgement before both weapons are lowered.
"Where goes you?"
"I have an appointment with your royals," Kyle responds, face stern. He's a ruler too, he's gotta adorn a resting bitch face, even if his best friend is standing in front of him. Wasn't he on Kyle’s side last time? His and Cartman’s kingdoms morph and change every other time they play their fantasy RPG, he doesn't remember correctly anymore.
"What for?"
"Private matters, ranger."
"I see. Hey, you wanna get ice cream or something after we're done?" Stan asks, breaking out of character all too easily. He doesn’t seem stoked about his job as Guard of the kingdom. Kyle understands, there's nothing to do but stand there in hopes to get included into the plot.
"Sure, dude. It's fucking scalding outside."
"I know! Updating my costume was a bad idea," Stan sighs, picking at his football gear.
Kyle snickers. "That's entirely your fault, dude."
"You're just saying that 'cause you were smart enough to break off from the group in the first place and leave Cartman’s bullshit costume obligations forever."
"He doesn’t come to check what we do in my kingdom."
Stan brushes his bleached blond hair out of his face. It's getting way too long nowadays, you can see his roots growing back in, but he doesn’t cut it. He's made a mullet out of it. He probably likes it that way. "Careful, I dunno how happy the Wizard King would be if he found out you indoctrinated his most faithful ranger."
"He has no other rangers."
"Case in point."
Kyle laughs. He pats Stan on the shoulder when he walks past him, officially entering the Kingdom of Kupa Keep once he's set both feet on Cartman soil. "Alright, see you, faithful ranger."
"See you. Try not to cause another war."
"I'll do my best!"
And with that, Kyle's off. He gets a few looks from a few different kids he's not sure he recognizes when he walks around, looking for a way into the tent that was set up for a throne room. He's a High Elf, what is he doing inside Kupa Keep? The horror. The humiliation. He waves at Craig and Tweek, making out on the side of Cartman’s house, who vaguely wave back. They're doing a good job guarding the tent.
Kyle enters and immediately feels much better. It's not huge in here, enough for a lawn chair or two, tall enough for him to stand up, but at least it's cool. A fan in the corner, plugged God-knows-where, is working overtime.
He takes another few steps and gets a blade to the chest once more. Dammit, Butters.
"State your purpose!" the blond calls out.
"I'm here for an audience with the princess," Kyle answers.
The paladin looks back at the half-empty chairs behind him, puzzled. Only Cartman is sitting in his makeshift throne, there's no Kenny to be found. What the hell, man. Kyle sighs and addresses his frenemy directly.
"Wizard King. Where did your princess go?"
"Fuck if I know," the third boy responds eloquently. Awesome.
"Well, find her. I have urgent matters to discuss."
"Whatever you were going to tell her, you can tell me," Cartman replies, his curiosity piqued by Kyle’s words. Fuck.
Kyle clears his throat and stiffens his back. "No need. I can wait."
"Not in here, you can't." Cartman makes a sweeping motion with his hand and Butters pokes his sword against Kyle’s chest. "You're hogging all the cold air, Jew."
"Come on, fatass, it's eighty degrees outside," Kyle pleads. "Most of these kids you have standing around, doing jackshit."
"What, like your kingdom is doing any better?" Cartman challenges.
"Yes, actually," Kyle hisses. "We're disbanded right now. Everyone's home with the AC blaring."
Something evil glints in Cartman’s eye. "So the Drow Elves are completely unguarded right now?"
Shit. "Cartman, come on, we–" Kyle starts, but a gasp sounding out from the side where Butters is standing interrupts him. Instinctively, he turns around, and a smile splits his face.
"Sorry! Jesus– fuck. I overslept!" Kenny apologises, stumbling into the throne room, holding the hem of his dress so he doesn’t trip. Nobody knows where he keeps finding these clothes, but at least they fit him well. He's a very glorious princess. At least Kyle thinks so.
"It's about time, dumbass," Cartman sighs, rolling his eyes as Kenny drops to the chair next to where he's sitting. "The Elf King requests an audience with you."
"Oh, sweet, really?" Kenny straightens where he's sitting and looks around until his gaze settles on Kyle.
Kyle feels like he's standing under a spotlight. Kenny's eyes seem to reach right into his soul when he seems interested, just like now. They’re so blue. Kyle wishes he had the words to describe them.
Maybe the feeling is heightened by his current appearance– Kenny ditched the hood a while back, though he sometimes wears the jacket as an accessory rather than hiding his face behind it. His face is bare right now, and the wig he wears more often than not, resting under a cardboard tiara, fits way better than the one he had when they were nine. It flows down on his shoulders in a braid, helpfully styled by his sister Karen, and ends with a hairband decorated with a plastic flower.
Kyle fixes his posture for the millionth time. The hand wrapped around his weapon tightens, his knuckles become white.
"Princess Kenny! A marvel seeing you today," he starts. Kenny seems pleased with the introduction, so he continues. "If you will, I have urgent affairs to discuss with you."
"Ah, damn, okay." Kenny whimpers when Cartman elbows him. He sighs and runs a hand underneath his braid, setting it at the front of his shoulder. "I mean, uh, alright. We shall retreat into my quarters and have the discussion over there, if you cannot speak of it in front of the Wizard King."
"No, I cannot," Kyle replies, staring daggers at Cartman, who returns the look.
"You're not going to your quarters, idiot. That'd be your private bedroom," Cartman hisses at Kenny when the latter gets up from his chair.
"I haven't seen Game Of Thrones in ages, shut up," Kenny hisses back, dusting off his dress.
"Don't you go and have gay sex during the game, you fucking fags."
"You'd love that, wouldn't you." Kenny gives Cartman a wink and takes Kyle’s bicep in his hand as he walks past. "Alright, Elf King, let's go discuss your private affairs," he murmurs, eyes flicking back to Kyle’s arm for a second. Is he checking him out? Kyle’s probably just delusional.
Kyle can't tell what he's thinking just from the look on his face, so he simply nods and follows the princess wherever she's leading him. Kenny walks fast, his dress wishing at his feet as he does so, and Kyle can't help but feel as though his heart is beating as fast as his feet are hitting the ground.
Kenny leads him to the other side of Cartman’s house, where Mr. Kitty is digging a hole into the ground. She yowls and runs away when they arrive. Kenny laughs at the sight and it sounds like bells to Kyle’s ears.
"Alright, he won't be able to hear us here," Kenny declares, holding his hands behind his back when he makes sure they're far enough from the tent. He turns to Kyle and offers a gap-toothed grin. "What's up, Elf King?"
"Message from Kyle Broflovski, actually." Kyle returns his grin. "He'd like to know if you'd be interested in going to dinner with him. Some time tomorrow, perhaps."
Kenny’s grin drops. Kyle's heart speeds up at that, and a million and one thoughts race into his head. Mostly, fuck .
And then Kenny smiles wider.
"Kenny McCormick would be happy to oblige," he replies, bowing down with a hand over his heart. "I've heard from reliable sources that he's been meaning to ask Broflovski himself, actually."
"Really. How curious."
Kenny snickers. His face lightens up when Kyle curtsies in front of him, all proper like a king should never. At least he's pretty sure they shouldn't. They're the top of the monarchy or something, right? Either way, it's worth it, because Kenny’s smile shines bright like the sun.
"You're quite the romantic, Elf King," Kenny muses, placing a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. "Get back up, you don't need to be doing all that."
"Why, I need to court you properly, princess." He may be too hot in his dad’s old robe, his crown may be itchy, Cartman may be an irritating dickwad, but Kyle has to admit, he does enjoy playing fantasy with his friends. It's a fun way to escape from everything else happening all around them, and the shows he likes most, if not sitcoms, are tales of kingdoms and magical creatures.
"Consider myself courted,Your Majesty," Kenny laughs. He takes Kyle’s hand in his own when the latter stands upright again, twirls around and nestles himself against Kyle’s chest, a dopey grin on his face. "Who could resist one so charming as yourself, after all?"
Kyle purses his lips together and nods. He hadn't planned on Kenny staying so close to him like that, but what else should he have expected from Kenny McCormick? He flirts for a living. Not literally, although he's sure Kenny might enjoy monetary gain from doing what he loves. Either way, he’s not complaining in the slightest. Kenny’s warm.
"You flatter me, princess," he replies. He rests his chin on the top of Kenny’s head, earning himself another laugh. "Stan and I are going to get ice cream when we're done playing, by the way. Wanna come?"
"Fuck, yes," Kenny moans, and Kyle feels his face get redder than his hair. "Holy shit, man, it's so hot."
"Cartman’s a fucking psychopath," Kyle agrees.
"Or just sadistic," Kenny supplies helpfully. "Either way. I love dressing up, but I don't want to parade around in a dress and a wig when it's a million degrees out."
"He's plot-driven, he'll stop at nothing to carry out his fantasy."
"You can pay people to do that, I'm pretty sure."
"Right. Like he'd get a hooker and pass up the occasion to see us all suffer."
"You're right. Well, he's got a vision, I'll give him that."
Kyle snickers. He untangles Kenny from his arms and simply takes his hand. "This is nice."
"It is." Kenny’s eyes are so gentle when they look back at him. Hopeful. He doesn’t look like that very often anymore, it's nice to see. Kyle wishes he could see it all the time.
"Let's get you back to your throne, Your Highness."
"But then you'll leave," Kenny pouts.
"I've gotta rally my troops," Kyle sighs. "They're off-duty, but your king might plan an attack."
Kenny raises an eyebrow. "Aren't you my king now?"
Kyle takes a few seconds to respond, shifting his focus to his feet so that Kenny may not witness his internal freak-out. "I've only asked you out on one date," he responds. "But… yes, if you wish me to be, I will."
Kenny looks like he's about to jump for joy. Instead, he squeezes Kyle’s hand in his own and smirks at Scott Malkinson when he sends them a look. "Very well, then. We are traitors to our own kind."
"Perhaps," Kyle starts, stopping right in front of the tent when they arrive. He turns to look at Kenny and raises their joined hands, before pressing a kiss to the back of Kenny’s. The look on his face is absolutely priceless. "But outside of the kingdom, we're just boyfriends."
"Dude," Kenny whispers, eyes wide open. "I'm so gay." His lips are parted, his cheeks are flushed. Kyle almost wishes he'd kissed his face instead.
"So am I," Kyle responds, grinning playfully. Despite his unusually cool exterior, his mind is racing.
"Alright, well, fuck. I guess we're dating now." Kenny lets go of his hand, stares at it for a few seconds, then nods. He steps aside and lifts a pan of the tent to enter. "See you on the battlefield, Elf King."
"Our battle shall go down in history, Princess Kenny." Kyle turns around and walks back to the edge of the backyard, past his friends and acquaintances. His heart feels so full, he doesn't care if some people are staring. He's the happiest man on earth.
He reaches Stan and gives him a wave. "Hey, dude, prepare. You might get drafted for war."
"Dammit," Stan groans, taking off his cape with one hand. He hangs it over his shoulder and hums. "Meeting went okay, Your Highness?"
Kyle grins.
"Stellar."