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myficsTitle: My Future's Bound [3/4]
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: South Park
Pairings: Stan/Kyle, Kenny/Butters, and Stan/Wendy, with some Kyle/OC, and mentioned Kyle/Bebe, Bill/Fosse, Butters/Dougie (or should I say Professor Chaos/General Disarray?) and Ike/Wendy. Probably some others that are casually mentioned that are utterly inconsequential.
Word Count: 30,614 altogether. 6,276 in this entry.
Summary: Stan and Kyle accidentally have phone sex while playing the newest MMORPG craze. Afterwards, Kyle comes out while Stan tries to deny what he feels. Also, Ike is generally awesome.
Disclaimer: Matt, Trey, and Comedy Central own the South Park boys.
Warnings: Fair warning: I looked up the age of legal consent in Colorado, and it's 16. Stan and Kyle are 16/17 in this fic, which is technically "underage," though they're old enough to consent to what they're doing. If the idea of them being under 18 bothers you, then I'd skip it. Just fair warning.
Thanks to: Rachael, Crys, & Willow.
Ike doesn't seem to pay much attention to the fact that Stan's staying the night, and why would he? Stan's stayed over so many times before that the number is probably in the hundreds. Nothing different, as far as he knows.
He does take Stan aside before they head upstairs though, and thanks him for whatever he did to improve Kyle's mood.
Stan flushes about a thousand shades of red, stutters out an, "Oh, it's no big deal," and follows Kyle upstairs half-convinced that Ike knows.
"You sure you're okay with this?" Kyle asks. "We don't have to. I really want to, but..."
"I'm fine," Stan lies as he digs his pajamas out of his bag. He hesitates near the door for a few seconds before realizing that there's no reason to go to the bathroom to change like he usually does. Kyle's seen him naked before and had his fingers inside of him, so...really. What's the point in preserving modesty?
And that's terrifying. It's so fucking scary to know that he and Kyle have reached that point.
"It's just me," Kyle says softly when Stan hovers by the bed without getting in. "I don't bite."
Stan sighs before carefully slipping under the covers beside Kyle without getting close enough to touch. He shouldn't be this nervous. They're just sleeping.
Then Kyle shifts closer to him silently until their shoulders are touching.
"Kyle..."
"You ever sleep with someone before? Wendy?"
"No. Never."
Kyle nods.
"Why?"
"I just like knowing that some things are just...special. Between you and me."
Stan feels like someone has reached into his chest and squeezed his heart.
"Yeah?" he asks, rolling over onto his side to face Kyle. "You do?"
Kyle nods.
"I'm sorry I let someone else fuck me," Stan says. "I just never thought...I'm just sorry."
Kyle shrugs. "Have you ever fucked a guy before? Or Wendy that way?"
"No."
"Then that's what I'll be your first of," Kyle says. "Not tonight. But soon. I will."
Stan swallows. "You'd let me?"
"Yeah."
"Have you ever..."
Kyle nods. "Both ways. With Justin."
For some reason, that hurts, and Stan suddenly gets why Kyle wants something special between them.
"You mad?"
"Why would I be mad?" Stan asks, though he is, a little. More at Justin than at Kyle, but he was already mad at Justin, so.
"Dunno. I'm kind of mad you didn't wait, so I figured maybe you'd be mad that I didn't..."
"It's not like we knew this was going to happen," Stan reasons. "There wasn't anything to wait for."
Carefully, like he's afraid Stan will jerk it away, Kyle takes Stan's hand in his. "I just wish...a lot of things."
"Wishing doesn't really accomplish much," Stan points out.
"I just want to feel like this is real," Kyle says lightly, like it means nothing at all.
"It is," Stan answers.
"Yeah?"
Stan kisses him in answer, and when he pulls away, Kyle's smiling.
"Stop that or I'll get hard again and I'll never be able to go to sleep."
"I can think of better things to do than sleep," Stan jokes, but Kyle really does look tired, so he backs off.
"I'll see you in the morning," Kyle murmurs, as his eyes drift closed.
Stan watches him for a while, the way his breathing slows down and his face becomes peaceful.
Yeah. He could get used to this sleeping with someone thing.
Finally, he makes himself comfortable, kisses the closest bit of Kyle's skin he can find—the palm of his hand, as it turns out—and lets himself drift off to sleep.
***
When Stan wakes up the next morning, Kyle is more on top of him than off. He rolled over during the night and he has one leg slung around both of Stan's, his arm around Stan's chest, and oh. Yeah. He's hard and Kyle's dick is pressing right against his hip.
There are worse ways to wake up, Stan thinks.
He brushes Kyle's hair away from his face and kisses his forehead before moving to roll out of bed. He gets about halfway out before Kyle sleepily gropes for his hand and murmurs, "Stay."
"Okay," Stan answers, because there's really not a way to say no to that, and he slides back into bed.
Kyle's eyes slowly blink open, then he smiles dopily. "You're still here."
"Yeah."
"You spent the whole night."
"I know."
"Thank you."
What's he supposed to say to that? You're welcome?
"Kyle..."
"I know. But just for a little while. Please? I'll make it worth your while."
"How are you going to do that?"
"Give me a minute to wake up and I'll show you," Kyle teases.
"I can think of really good ways to wake you up," Stan points out.
Kyle laughs. "I love it when we're on the same page."
Stan rolls them over and straddles Kyle's thighs, rocking against him.
"One part of you is awake, at least."
Kyle laughs. "Just give me a minute for the rest of me to catch up."
"Yeah, well, when it does, let me know, 'cause I want to suck you off again."
"Yeah?"
"Fuck yeah."
Kyle grins. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"You planning on being so turned on by sucking me off that you just go off into spontaneous orgasms?"
"What'd you have in mind?"
Okay. Maybe his brain instantly goes to Kyle's promise that Stan could fuck him. But if he's learned anything from dating Wendy, it's that being patient and waiting for things like that to be offered, rather than asking for them directly, is the best way to go.
Kyle laughs. "I'm not letting you fuck me at nine o'clock in the morning when we both have morning breath, if that's what you're thinking. But we both need to take a shower and a shower is the perfect place for a blowjob."
Stan groans. "You're trying to kill me."
"How am I doing?"
"Really, really well."
Kyle runs his fingers down Stan's spine—gentle tickling touches that burn all the way down.
"Can I?" Stan asks, and Kyle nods, giving him permission to duck beneath the covers and tug Kyle's pajama bottoms down enough to free his cock. And yeah. It's even better the second time he's allowed to touch it and he places reverent kisses all the way up to the tip.
When he sucks him in, Kyle's breathing gets heavier. Stan wishes the blanket weren't in the way so he could see Kyle's eyes, but just picturing what his face must be like right now is fun, too. Are his eyes wide and his pupils blown-wide with lust? Does he look scared like he still can't believe Stan is doing this to him? Does he look desperate for more, like he wants to fuck Stan's mouth? The possibilities are endless and Stan thinks they're all pretty awesome in their own way.
"Jesus, Stan," Kyle gasps. "You just...fuck."
Stan tugs the blanket down enough to be able to see Kyle's face and grins at him around his cock.
Desperation. That's the one Kyle's going with today. Excellent.
Replacing his mouth with his hand, Stan takes a calming breath before saying, "If you wanted to...you could fuck my mouth."
Kyle stares at him numbly, his face clearly saying oh my God, you did not just say that, before he finally asks, "Are you sure?"
"Not too hard," Stan cautions. "But yeah."
"How weird would it be if I told you that you were the best thing that's ever happened to me?"
"A little," Stan admits. "But do you want to?"
"Duh."
Stan has to guide him into setting the right pace at first, let him see where Stan's limits are and draw the right line, but once Kyle gets the hang of it and Stan's free to just suck and let his tongue curl around Kyle's cock, it's so much better. He thought after the night before, there wouldn't be a way to top it, but this is just on a whole different level.
"Fuck," Kyle gasps. "Fuck, Stan...God, your mouth." He makes a noise that sounds closer to, "Nghf," than an actual word, and Stan's kind of proud of himself for reducing Kyle, who does things like lead debates and give amazing oral reports in school, to incoherency.
Kyle slept without a shirt on and his chest is just there, begging to be touched, so Stan does, pinching one of his nipples lightly before moving down to his abdomen and running his fingers over the very slight muscles there.
Fuck, Kyle is beautiful. Just...fucking gorgeous and perfect just as he is, inside and out. Maybe Stan's biased. Maybe not. He doesn't know. But the facts are still the same. Kyle is so sexy that just watching him get closer and closer to orgasm is making Stan so hard he's aching.
Kyle's head falls back against the pillows as the thrusts of his hips become more erratic, and Stan can feel the orgasm coming before he can actually taste it on his tongue.
"Fuck—Stan—fucking—Goddamn—" Kyle says, and then Stan is swallowing him down, cleaning his cock thoroughly before releasing it with a wet pop.
"Kyle?"
"Can't talk," Kyle pants. "No brain."
Stan grins. "I guess I'm just that good then, huh?"
"Amazing," Kyle laments. "Too good."
"You're just used to shitty blowjobs from guys who don't lo—care about you."
If Kyle were any more lucid than he is right now, he might've noticed that, but he doesn't, leaving Stan to wonder why the fuck he couldn't say it. They've been using that word to describe this since Kyle pinned him against the door yesterday, but Stan's never actually said, "I love you." He says it to Wendy all the time, and to his parents, and he knows he used to say it to Kyle all the time when they were kids. So why's it so hard to say now? Why's it harder to tell Kyle he loves him than it is to tell Wendy?
Kyle shrugs placidly. "I wanna kiss you, but you're all the way down there," he mumbles.
Stan laughs and joins him at the head of the bed, letting Kyle kiss him lazily.
"Forget the shower," Kyle sighs. "Can't we just stay in bed all day?"
"Thought you wanted to go on a date. And a shower. I was promised a blowjob in the shower."
"Fuck it. I'll blow you here."
Stan laughs. "Sounds tempting, but I think Ike would want to know why we stayed in bed together all day, and I really can't think up a good excuse that doesn't involve traumatizing his little pre-teen mind."
"He could use a little traumatizing. I caught him going down on his teacher in a bathtub with a snorkle when he was in kindergarten. He could live through catching me in bed with you."
Stan shrugs. "Still not a good idea. And seriously, we need a shower."
Kyle sighs. "Since when are you the practical one?"
"Since I sucked your brain out through your dick," Stan says reasonably. "Come on. Shower now."
Kyle groans but lets Stan tug him up out of the bed. On the way to the bathroom, Kyle threads their fingers together and leans on Stan heavily.
It would just figure that's when Ike steps out of his bedroom, blinking sleepily, and spots them.
"Kyle?"
"Oh. Uh. Hey, Ike."
Ike rolls his eyes. "Do I want to know?" he asks, aiming his question more at Stan than at Kyle.
"Probably not."
Ike nods. "Yeah. Okay. Just let me know when I need to be out of the house, all right?"
"You okay?" Kyle asks.
Ike shrugs. "Not like I never suspected you too might be..." He waves a hand vaguely. "Anyway. Don't mind me. I'll just have some cereal and get out of your hair."
"Ike, you don't have to leave," Kyle says. "It's fine, really."
"I love you both," Ike says seriously, "but if I hear the two of you going at it...I seriously don't know how I would ever look either of you in the eye again. So. Cereal, and heading outside."
Kyle groans as Ike heads downstairs, but Stan rolls his eyes and ushers Kyle into the bathroom anyway.
"That was awful," Kyle says flatly.
"Dude, that went a hell of a lot better than I thought it would."
"My little brother is currently fleeing the house."
"Because he doesn't want to overhear us, not because he's mad at us. Kyle, dude, calm down."
Kyle sighs. "Yeah. Okay."
"Good. Now. Shower. Blowjob. I'm not particular about the order."
Kyle laughs, pins him against the shower door, and kisses him roughly.
***
Stan goes home around noon to pick up a fresh change of clothes for his bag—he doesn't know if Kyle will ask him to spend the night again, but if he does, Stan's sure as hell not going to say no—and ask his parents if he can borrow the car.
"Let me guess, North Park again?" his dad asks as he ponders the keys in his hand without actually handing them over.
"I don't know," Stan says. "Maybe. Me and Kyle are just gonna hang out."
"What's wrong with hanging out in South Park?" his father asks, and Stan bites his lip to avoid stating the true answer: Because people here will recognize us and make fun of us when they see us holding hands or kissing.
"Nothing," he answers. "Just wanted a change of pace."
His dad frowns in consideration before reluctantly handing the keys over. "All right, Stan, but I expect you to have that car back in this driveway before midnight."
Stan nods. That's generous and really more than he needs. "Thanks, Dad."
"You're welcome. You and Kyle be careful."
His face is perfectly blank when he says it and Stan knows he's only telling Stan to be careful while driving. But the thing is...hearing his father say that...it just suddenly hits him how very not-careful he's being. He's not being careful at all and he's going to fuck things up so bad by being reckless. Careful would be not doing this at all.
And he knows that. He knows he shouldn't be dating Kyle right now, not when Wendy's coming back in just under three weeks and he has to go back to her. But he's doing it anyway, and he can't help but wonder if it's going to lead to a proverbial car wreck.
"Yeah," he says and forces a smile. "We will, Dad."
When he gets back to Kyle's, Ike asks him if he'll come outside and throw a ball around with him while Kyle finishes searching for his wallet. Stan doesn't mind, so they head out into the cool evening air and Stan tosses the football in Ike's direction.
Ike catches it, tosses it back easily, and catches it a second time before he finally says, "Look, you know I think of you as like, another big brother, right?"
"Yeah," Stan answers. "Sure."
"So...this isn't easy for me to say, but um. We need to have one of those brother-to-boyfriend talks where I threaten to punch you if you hurt Kyle."
Stan stares at him. "What?"
"I told you it wasn't easy for me to say. I feel like I don't know which of you to threaten not to hurt the other one. You're like family, man. Just don't hurt him, okay?"
The pit in Stan's stomach that grew deeper at his father's words gets even bigger at Ike's. Yeah. He's going to hurt Kyle. And he and Kyle both know it.
"I'll try," he says, and somehow, lying to Ike feels like stabbing himself. Maybe it's just what the lie is about or maybe it's because Ike was right about Stan feeling like a part of the family. He doesn't know. But it hurts to say those words and know they're false.
Ike nods, satisfied. "Good. So when did you two start dating, anyway? Is that why he broke up with Justin?"
"Nah. He had a lot of reasons for that. This just started yesterday after you left the house."
Ike nods. "I won't tell anybody if you don't want me to."
"Thanks."
"So does this mean you're not with Wendy anymore?"
"Why?" Stan asks, rather than answering the question.
"She's pretty," Ike says. "Think I have a chance with her?"
"Well...just...you're twelve. And she's almost seventeen. So...not really. Sorry. Plus, you two disagree about everything."
"That's why they say that opposites attract," Ike points out. "But yeah. You're right. I'm too young for her."
"Sorry," Stan offers. "But, you know. Lots of pretty girls your age. If you need any advice..." He shrugs.
"Don't give him girl advice," Kyle says as he joins them. "Last thing he needs is a girlfriend."
"He's still bitter I lost my virginity before he did," Ike huffs.
"You were four," Kyle says. "I'm not jealous of being molested by a teacher."
"Well, yeah, there's that," Ike agrees.
"Seriously, Stan," Kyle says. "He does not need girl advice. He needs to avoid them for a few more years, graduate high school, and go to Yale."
"Oh, sure. You can have sex with Justin and Stan, but I can't date a girl," Ike says. "You're so not fair."
"You have bad luck with women," Kyle says flatly. "Anyway. You ready to go, Stan?"
"Yeah. I guess." He tosses the ball back to Ike. "Good arm. You should think about joining the team when you get old enough."
"Can't," Ike says with a shrug. "Don't have time between school and hockey."
Stan nods and follows Kyle to the car, waving goodbye to Ike as he goes.
"He gave me the, 'Don't hurt my big brother,' speech earlier," he says once they're inside.
"Figures," Kyle mutters. "He gave me a, 'Don't hurt my not-really-a-brother-but-feels-like-one,' speech before you got here."
"He's protective of us."
Kyle nods. "Yeah. He's going to hate us when school starts."
"Kyle..."
"I know, Stan. And I just...don't want to think about it."
Stan sighs and puts the car into gear. "I'm sorry," he says softly, but he's not sure if Kyle hears him.
***
When they get back to South Park that night, Stan drives the car to his house, drops the keys off with his dad, and grabs his bag, just in case Kyle invites him back to his house.
"Presumptuous," Kyle murmurs when he sees it.
"Yeah, well. You asked me to spend the night with you last night, so I figured better safe than sorry."
"My parents are coming home tomorrow evening," Kyle says. "So...this is probably the last night we'll have a chance to do that. Yeah. If you want to."
"I do," Stan answers. He wants to take Kyle's hand for the walk back to his place, but he doesn't.
It's one of the many, many reasons he and Kyle shouldn't be doing this. Stan is afraid to admit it.
He remembers when Kenny came out, how his dad threw him out of the house for over a week when he told them he was bisexual. He'd gone back and forth between Kyle's house and Stan's before he was finally allowed to go home.
Not that Stan thinks his parents would do that to him, but just the idea that there are people in town who would...it's scary.
"Hey, Stan?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm having a really good time with you."
"Yeah. Me, too."
"And now we're spending the night together again..."
"I know."
"So...I don't know. I was just thinking that this is...you know. Workable. Me and you. We're working like this."
"It's been a day," Stan points out.
"I know, but...I just...consider it, okay? That's all I'm saying."
Stan nods, but the request is unnecessary. That's kind of all he can think about, with or without him actually wanting to. Because the thing is...Kyle's right. They're best friends, they love each other, their families are good friends who might even be happy about it once they got over the shock, and now they're finding out they're sexually compatible. What more could Stan want?
The answer to that is simple, but no less easy to admit. A family. He wants that life where he gets to take care of the children. Fuck, where there even are children. That future isn't the one he could have with Kyle, no matter how good they are together, and it's just too much to give up.
"How was the date?" Ike asks when they get to Kyle's. He's slumped on the couch with a container of Oreos on his lap, smushing two of them together before holding it up. "Check it out. Quadruple stuffed." He pops it in his mouth and grins at them with a cookie-covered smile.
"It was good," Kyle answers. "We went to North Park and had dinner. And then we saw, um...some kind of movie."
"You two were making out too much to even notice what it was, weren't you?" Ike asks, but his eyes are locked onto his cookies as he tries to stick three of them together into what looks like a Big Mac made out of Oreos. "Guys, look. What's the word for six? Oh, right. Sextuple stuffed. Speaking of which." He glances at the two of them. "Heh heh. Get it?"
"Ew, Ike, that's sick," Kyle says.
Ike grins. "It took me two hours to think that one up after you left. I even wrote it down on the palm of my hand so I wouldn't forget. See?" He holds his hand up, palm outwards, in demonstration.
Kyle rolls his eyes. "Did you at least have a decent dinner before you started Quadruple stuffing?"
"Ordered City Wok," Ike says offhandedly. "There's some left in the fridge if you want it later after you two work up an appetite."
"You're such a dick," Kyle says. "Seriously. It's weird when you make jokes like that."
"Fair enough," Ike agrees. "But seriously, I'm sleeping with my headphones on, so...have at it. It's cool. Good night."
"Night," Kyle says.
"Yeah. Night, Ike," Stan agrees, and Ike waves him up the stairs.
"He doesn't mean anything by it," Stan tells him as they head down the hall to Kyle's room. "It's just his way of dealing with us, you know. And they're not really mean jokes, anyway."
"I know," Kyle says. "It's still weird for my little brother to talk about stuff like that. He's my brother. And he's only twelve, anyway."
"Yeah, and he's had an IQ four points higher than yours since he was three."
"Ugh. Don't remind me."
Stan laughs. "Sorry, Kyle. You're not the only genius in your family. You'll just have to live with it."
"What if I need some cheering up to deal with it?"
Stan laughs. "Is that your way of trying to coax sex out of me? 'Cause you can just ask. Not like I'm going to say no."
"Seemed rude to just say, 'Hey, Stan. I love you. Now get on your knees.'"
Stan's stomach twists at Kyle's words. Why is it so easy for Kyle to say, "I love you," and so hard for him?
"That what you want?" Stan asks. "My mouth?"
"I...yeah. Maybe."
Stan nods and kneels down, unhooking the button on Kyle's jeans and pushing them down his hips.
"Remember to be quiet," he says. "Don't want Ike to hear."
Kyle laughs and groans, embarrassed. "Don't. I'll be quiet."
Stan has given Kyle three blowjobs since yesterday afternoon and he's still not getting tired of it. Sure, his jaw aches and that's never fun, but the thing is...it's just good. He's always liked pleasing the person he's with, never more so than with Kyle, and Kyle's cock just begs to be sucked. It's a dick that was made to be touched by Stan and Stan's more than happy to touch, lick, and suck it for as long as Kyle will let him or until his jaw just tells him to fuck off and die, whichever comes first.
He sucks on one of his own fingers and carefully eases it into Kyle, searching for his prostate. He knows he's found it when Kyle groans and touches the top of his head like he wants to wind his fingers through Stan's hair, then lets go and just braces his hands against the wall.
"Fuck, Stan...yeah. God. Fuck."
Stan kind of doesn't want to stop doing this, but he knows how much it can suck to have to wait for an orgasm, so he redoubles his efforts and lets Kyle come in his mouth.
"Fuck," Kyle pants. "You just...you're so fucking good at that."
Stan grins. "Yeah?"
Kyle nods and tugs Stan back to his feet, pins him against the wall, and kisses him.
"I just...I don't know. I want to be with you anyway, but knowing that you're so fucking good at that is just...makes it even worse to think about—"
"Then don't think about it," Stan says softly. "Just kiss me. Be with me now and stop worrying."
"I'm trying," Kyle replies back in a hushed voice. "My mind just...it's always thinking, Stan. Even when I don't want it to."
"Then let me shut it up," Stan answers, and kisses Kyle as he backs them up towards the bed.
They fall onto it with Stan on top, still kissing as Kyle's fingers wind their way into his hair.
"You still thinking?" Stan asks.
"Not as much."
"Kyle..."
"You don't have to say anything."
"Do you...do you think we could?"
"I don't think there's a way for us to not. We have to, Stan. We just have to 'cause I don't know how to go back. How can I just be your friend after this? After I've been in love with you?"
Stan sighs and rolls off of him, taking Kyle's hand in his.
"I don't know."
Kyle sighs. "I won't bring it up anymore. I'm sorry. This is hard enough as it is without me talking about it."
"You have every right to talk about it," Stan says fairly.
"I don't want to. I just want to focus on you, like you said."
"So what now?"
Kyle shrugs. "I guess now I kiss you."
"And after that?"
"I'm not sure."
The idea that even Kyle's not sure is a scary one and Stan's pretty sure he's shaking from head to toe. Kyle is always sure. He always knows what to do and how to do it and the idea that he's just as lost and helpless right now as Stan is just terrifying.
"You tired?" Stan asks.
"No. You?"
"No. Why?"
"Dunno. Thought..." Kyle shrugs. "If you wanted...I mean..."
Oh. That. "No," Stan answers.
"What?" Kyle asks, looking hurt.
"No, I mean..." Stan sighs. "I want to. I do. You know that. But not right after we've been talking about all that. I don't want to be thinking about that stuff when I think about the first time me and you did that, okay?"
Kyle nods slowly. "I guess that makes sense."
"You're not mad?"
"No. I get it."
"Maybe tomorrow?"
"Maybe I won't be in the mood tomorrow," Kyle teases.
"And you're in the mood now?"
"No," Kyle admits. "I just...this is our last chance to sleep together and I can't...imagine not if we do that. How do you do that and then just kick the other guy out of bed?"
"Yeah. I get that. Maybe we can work something out later, though. Sleep over or something. I don't know. I'm sorry."
Kyle nods. "You want me to—"
Stan shakes his head. "Not feeling very..." He shrugs. "God, Kyle, I'm so fucking sorry."
Kyle squeezes his hand in response and they lay there on their backs staring at the ceiling silently until they fall asleep.
***
When Stan wakes up the next morning, he's in bed alone and he gropes blindly for Kyle before finally giving up and heading downstairs.
"Morning," he says when he spots Ike sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper. "Where's Kyle?"
"We were out of milk. He went to the store to get some. I offered so you two could have morning sex, but he said he wanted to do it. Something wrong?"
Great. Now Kyle's avoiding him. Perfect.
"It's fine," Stan says, forcing a smile. "How'd you sleep?"
"Good," Ike says. "Couldn't hear a thing 'cause of the headphones."
Stan doesn't bother telling him that there wasn't much to hear.
"Good. Yeah. Um, how long's he been gone?"
"Stan, is there something wrong?"
"It's fine. Really. Don't worry about it."
"You just seem...upset. And Kyle was acting weird. You're not breaking up already, are you? You can't. I like you two together."
Stan sighs. "I don't think we are."
Ike puts the newspaper down and stares at him. "You guys aren't allowed to break up. I don't care who called who fat or who put their dick somewhere the other one didn't want it to be. Just make up. You're not allowed to break up."
Stan laughs, but Ike is staring at him in a way that's completely fucking serious.
"Ike, we'll...work it out. And if we can't, it's...you know, that's on me and Kyle, okay? Just let us figure it out. It's not—"
"My business. Yeah, I know. I just...it would really, really suck if you did."
"Well...hopefully that won't happen," Stan offers.
"Stan, you can't."
"Why do you care?"
"Because you make my brother happy," Ike says. "And he makes you happy. You've been best friends since birth or something. And you love him, don't you?"
Stan hesitates, but nods. "Yeah. I do."
"And he loves you. No one's ever going to love you as much as Kyle does. And do you really think you'll ever love someone as much as you do him? I just don't see it happening, Stan. You two look at each other and it's like..." He shakes his head. "You fit here. With Kyle. With us. Our dads are best friends, our moms are friends, too, and my parents love you. And your parents love Kyle, too. It just...it makes sense. You fit here. With us. You're already a part of this family, anyway. And you guys love each other. I...I don't understand why you'd not..."
Ike pauses and stares at him, horrified. "You're still with Wendy, aren't you?"
Stan sighs. "Yes."
"And you're not breaking up with her when she gets back, either, are you?"
"No."
Ike stares at him. "And Kyle knows that, doesn't he?"
"Yes."
Ike's face makes Stan hurt and he can't look at it for too long without feeling sick.
"How could you do this?" Ike asks. "I...how could you do this to him? To..." He doesn't say, "to me," but Stan knows he's thinking it, and his stomach twists even more at the knowledge that Ike cares that much about this.
"Ike...this wasn't supposed to happen. Me and Kyle...it was never supposed to be like this. It just happened and I told him I was still going to be with her when she got back, and he said he'd rather have three weeks than nothing at all."
"You're going to destroy him," Ike says numbly. "Why? What could she possibly be offering you that he can't?"
After all of Ike's talk about how Stan is a part of his family, it feels ridiculous to answer the question, but he finally sighs and admits, "With her...I can have a family."
"What?"
"Kids. A marriage."
"That's bullshit," Ike spits. "You can marry Kyle. It's legal here and we're reform, so you can even have a marriage ceremony with our rabbi. Well, if you convert, anyway, you can. And either way, it's still legal here. And kids? Ever heard of adopting? Hi. I was born Peter Ike Gints to Canadian parents and now I'm Ike Moisha Broflovski and these people are my family."
"Ike..."
"No," Ike snaps, and now the pain has moved into his voice, too. "You promised me you wouldn't hurt him and you are and for no fucking good reason. The two of you are crazy about each other and you can have exactly what you want with him and you're too fucking—I don't even know what your problem is, but it's something wrong with you—to just love him."
"Ike, I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. You can't be. If you were sorry, you'd make the right choice. You'd just be with him and be happy. You can have a family with him and you can be happy and you're just...refusing to be happy. Why? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Stan stares at the table for a long time before answering, "I don't know."
"I trusted you," Ike says. "I...I looked up to you, Stan. I really do think of you as a brother. That wasn't bullshit. And you're doing this to Kyle? It's...when you're back with her, do you know who's going to be the one to try and console him? Me. But what am I supposed to say to him, Stan? 'He's not worth crying over?' 'It's not like you loved him, or anything?' 'He didn't love you, so fuck him?' None of those things are true, Stan. I just...I can't believe someone I loved and trusted would do this to the one person on the planet who's supposed to mean that much to him."
"Ike—"
"Do you know how happy I was when I saw you two together? I thought, 'Awesome. They're going to be so good together. They're going to love each other and take care of each other,' and the idea that the two of you could ever possibly break up didn't even cross my mind. It just wasn't an option. Because it's the two of you. Fuck, I was planning your wedding in my head."
"What?"
"I'm my mother's son. Can we move on?" Ike interrupts. "The point is, I was ready to welcome you to the family as my brother-in-law. And I don't know. Maybe that's my fault for jumping the gun. I shouldn't have made that leap. But what you're doing to him is still unbelievably awful."
"Ike, it's his choice, okay? I said no until he wouldn't take no for an answer anymore."
"I don't care," Ike says. "I don't. You could've gone home. Even if he wouldn't take no the first time, you didn't have to come back here yesterday after you left. You took him on a date and you came back here and slept with him again, and you didn't have to do that. That was your choice."
"Ike, it's not that simple. Look, you're only twelve. You don't understand."
"I have a higher IQ than Kyle, and definitely higher than yours," Ike fires back. "I understand a lot of things and I'm not fucking stupid."
"I know you're smart. I didn't mean that. I meant you don't understand about relationships 'cause—"
"You've been dating Wendy since you were eight when you love and always have loved Kyle more than her. And I'm the one who doesn't understand relationships? Fuck you."
"Ike—"
"No. Just...no. How do you expect me to sit here and watch you guys do this to each other?"
"I don't. I expect you to realize it's not your business and—"
The door opens and Kyle steps inside, kicking off his shoes as he shuts it behind him.
"Morning," he says awkwardly. "I uh, got milk for breakfast."
"I'm not hungry anymore," Ike says angrily, and storms up the stairs. A moment later, a door slams, and Stan winces.
"What happened?" Kyle asks after he's put the milk into the refrigerator. "Something wrong with him?"
Stan stares down at the table. "He found out about us."
"He already knew about us."
"No, about...um. About me. And Wendy."
Kyle freezes. "Why did you tell him that? You know it's only going to upset him."
"Kyle, it's not my fault your little brother is freaky-smart and figured it out. And it's not my fault that he's overly invested in our relationship, either. I'm sorry, okay?"
Kyle sighs and drops down into Ike's vacated chair. "I...Stan..."
"Why'd you leave this morning? I woke up alone."
Kyle shrugs without looking at him. "I just kept thinking...no matter what I offer you, it's never good enough. I want to date you, but you want Wendy more. I offer to let you fuck me, but you won't because of something that happened earlier. You keep making up reasons not to take what I'm offering you and I just...didn't know how much more of it I could take."
"Kyle...I wasn't rejecting you. I just...if we're going to do that, shouldn't it be...good?"
Kyle shrugs. "It wasn't just that. It's everything. I can't think of any reason why you'd want to pick Wendy over me, but you are. So it's just...never mind."
Carefully, Stan reaches across the table and takes Kyle's hand. "I'm sorry," he says, and waits for Kyle to jerk his hand away.
"Yeah. I know." And for what feels like forever, the room is silent. Then, Kyle adds, "I don't think we should do this anymore."
Stan tries to keep breathing, but he can't and it's all he can do to squeak out an, "Okay."
Kyle lets go of his hand and rises from the table without looking at him before heading upstairs. Stan waits until he hears the click of Kyle's bedroom door being shut before he leaves.
Part 4
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: South Park
Pairings: Stan/Kyle, Kenny/Butters, and Stan/Wendy, with some Kyle/OC, and mentioned Kyle/Bebe, Bill/Fosse, Butters/Dougie (or should I say Professor Chaos/General Disarray?) and Ike/Wendy. Probably some others that are casually mentioned that are utterly inconsequential.
Word Count: 30,614 altogether. 6,276 in this entry.
Summary: Stan and Kyle accidentally have phone sex while playing the newest MMORPG craze. Afterwards, Kyle comes out while Stan tries to deny what he feels. Also, Ike is generally awesome.
Disclaimer: Matt, Trey, and Comedy Central own the South Park boys.
Warnings: Fair warning: I looked up the age of legal consent in Colorado, and it's 16. Stan and Kyle are 16/17 in this fic, which is technically "underage," though they're old enough to consent to what they're doing. If the idea of them being under 18 bothers you, then I'd skip it. Just fair warning.
Thanks to: Rachael, Crys, & Willow.
Ike doesn't seem to pay much attention to the fact that Stan's staying the night, and why would he? Stan's stayed over so many times before that the number is probably in the hundreds. Nothing different, as far as he knows.
He does take Stan aside before they head upstairs though, and thanks him for whatever he did to improve Kyle's mood.
Stan flushes about a thousand shades of red, stutters out an, "Oh, it's no big deal," and follows Kyle upstairs half-convinced that Ike knows.
"You sure you're okay with this?" Kyle asks. "We don't have to. I really want to, but..."
"I'm fine," Stan lies as he digs his pajamas out of his bag. He hesitates near the door for a few seconds before realizing that there's no reason to go to the bathroom to change like he usually does. Kyle's seen him naked before and had his fingers inside of him, so...really. What's the point in preserving modesty?
And that's terrifying. It's so fucking scary to know that he and Kyle have reached that point.
"It's just me," Kyle says softly when Stan hovers by the bed without getting in. "I don't bite."
Stan sighs before carefully slipping under the covers beside Kyle without getting close enough to touch. He shouldn't be this nervous. They're just sleeping.
Then Kyle shifts closer to him silently until their shoulders are touching.
"Kyle..."
"You ever sleep with someone before? Wendy?"
"No. Never."
Kyle nods.
"Why?"
"I just like knowing that some things are just...special. Between you and me."
Stan feels like someone has reached into his chest and squeezed his heart.
"Yeah?" he asks, rolling over onto his side to face Kyle. "You do?"
Kyle nods.
"I'm sorry I let someone else fuck me," Stan says. "I just never thought...I'm just sorry."
Kyle shrugs. "Have you ever fucked a guy before? Or Wendy that way?"
"No."
"Then that's what I'll be your first of," Kyle says. "Not tonight. But soon. I will."
Stan swallows. "You'd let me?"
"Yeah."
"Have you ever..."
Kyle nods. "Both ways. With Justin."
For some reason, that hurts, and Stan suddenly gets why Kyle wants something special between them.
"You mad?"
"Why would I be mad?" Stan asks, though he is, a little. More at Justin than at Kyle, but he was already mad at Justin, so.
"Dunno. I'm kind of mad you didn't wait, so I figured maybe you'd be mad that I didn't..."
"It's not like we knew this was going to happen," Stan reasons. "There wasn't anything to wait for."
Carefully, like he's afraid Stan will jerk it away, Kyle takes Stan's hand in his. "I just wish...a lot of things."
"Wishing doesn't really accomplish much," Stan points out.
"I just want to feel like this is real," Kyle says lightly, like it means nothing at all.
"It is," Stan answers.
"Yeah?"
Stan kisses him in answer, and when he pulls away, Kyle's smiling.
"Stop that or I'll get hard again and I'll never be able to go to sleep."
"I can think of better things to do than sleep," Stan jokes, but Kyle really does look tired, so he backs off.
"I'll see you in the morning," Kyle murmurs, as his eyes drift closed.
Stan watches him for a while, the way his breathing slows down and his face becomes peaceful.
Yeah. He could get used to this sleeping with someone thing.
Finally, he makes himself comfortable, kisses the closest bit of Kyle's skin he can find—the palm of his hand, as it turns out—and lets himself drift off to sleep.
When Stan wakes up the next morning, Kyle is more on top of him than off. He rolled over during the night and he has one leg slung around both of Stan's, his arm around Stan's chest, and oh. Yeah. He's hard and Kyle's dick is pressing right against his hip.
There are worse ways to wake up, Stan thinks.
He brushes Kyle's hair away from his face and kisses his forehead before moving to roll out of bed. He gets about halfway out before Kyle sleepily gropes for his hand and murmurs, "Stay."
"Okay," Stan answers, because there's really not a way to say no to that, and he slides back into bed.
Kyle's eyes slowly blink open, then he smiles dopily. "You're still here."
"Yeah."
"You spent the whole night."
"I know."
"Thank you."
What's he supposed to say to that? You're welcome?
"Kyle..."
"I know. But just for a little while. Please? I'll make it worth your while."
"How are you going to do that?"
"Give me a minute to wake up and I'll show you," Kyle teases.
"I can think of really good ways to wake you up," Stan points out.
Kyle laughs. "I love it when we're on the same page."
Stan rolls them over and straddles Kyle's thighs, rocking against him.
"One part of you is awake, at least."
Kyle laughs. "Just give me a minute for the rest of me to catch up."
"Yeah, well, when it does, let me know, 'cause I want to suck you off again."
"Yeah?"
"Fuck yeah."
Kyle grins. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"You planning on being so turned on by sucking me off that you just go off into spontaneous orgasms?"
"What'd you have in mind?"
Okay. Maybe his brain instantly goes to Kyle's promise that Stan could fuck him. But if he's learned anything from dating Wendy, it's that being patient and waiting for things like that to be offered, rather than asking for them directly, is the best way to go.
Kyle laughs. "I'm not letting you fuck me at nine o'clock in the morning when we both have morning breath, if that's what you're thinking. But we both need to take a shower and a shower is the perfect place for a blowjob."
Stan groans. "You're trying to kill me."
"How am I doing?"
"Really, really well."
Kyle runs his fingers down Stan's spine—gentle tickling touches that burn all the way down.
"Can I?" Stan asks, and Kyle nods, giving him permission to duck beneath the covers and tug Kyle's pajama bottoms down enough to free his cock. And yeah. It's even better the second time he's allowed to touch it and he places reverent kisses all the way up to the tip.
When he sucks him in, Kyle's breathing gets heavier. Stan wishes the blanket weren't in the way so he could see Kyle's eyes, but just picturing what his face must be like right now is fun, too. Are his eyes wide and his pupils blown-wide with lust? Does he look scared like he still can't believe Stan is doing this to him? Does he look desperate for more, like he wants to fuck Stan's mouth? The possibilities are endless and Stan thinks they're all pretty awesome in their own way.
"Jesus, Stan," Kyle gasps. "You just...fuck."
Stan tugs the blanket down enough to be able to see Kyle's face and grins at him around his cock.
Desperation. That's the one Kyle's going with today. Excellent.
Replacing his mouth with his hand, Stan takes a calming breath before saying, "If you wanted to...you could fuck my mouth."
Kyle stares at him numbly, his face clearly saying oh my God, you did not just say that, before he finally asks, "Are you sure?"
"Not too hard," Stan cautions. "But yeah."
"How weird would it be if I told you that you were the best thing that's ever happened to me?"
"A little," Stan admits. "But do you want to?"
"Duh."
Stan has to guide him into setting the right pace at first, let him see where Stan's limits are and draw the right line, but once Kyle gets the hang of it and Stan's free to just suck and let his tongue curl around Kyle's cock, it's so much better. He thought after the night before, there wouldn't be a way to top it, but this is just on a whole different level.
"Fuck," Kyle gasps. "Fuck, Stan...God, your mouth." He makes a noise that sounds closer to, "Nghf," than an actual word, and Stan's kind of proud of himself for reducing Kyle, who does things like lead debates and give amazing oral reports in school, to incoherency.
Kyle slept without a shirt on and his chest is just there, begging to be touched, so Stan does, pinching one of his nipples lightly before moving down to his abdomen and running his fingers over the very slight muscles there.
Fuck, Kyle is beautiful. Just...fucking gorgeous and perfect just as he is, inside and out. Maybe Stan's biased. Maybe not. He doesn't know. But the facts are still the same. Kyle is so sexy that just watching him get closer and closer to orgasm is making Stan so hard he's aching.
Kyle's head falls back against the pillows as the thrusts of his hips become more erratic, and Stan can feel the orgasm coming before he can actually taste it on his tongue.
"Fuck—Stan—fucking—Goddamn—" Kyle says, and then Stan is swallowing him down, cleaning his cock thoroughly before releasing it with a wet pop.
"Kyle?"
"Can't talk," Kyle pants. "No brain."
Stan grins. "I guess I'm just that good then, huh?"
"Amazing," Kyle laments. "Too good."
"You're just used to shitty blowjobs from guys who don't lo—care about you."
If Kyle were any more lucid than he is right now, he might've noticed that, but he doesn't, leaving Stan to wonder why the fuck he couldn't say it. They've been using that word to describe this since Kyle pinned him against the door yesterday, but Stan's never actually said, "I love you." He says it to Wendy all the time, and to his parents, and he knows he used to say it to Kyle all the time when they were kids. So why's it so hard to say now? Why's it harder to tell Kyle he loves him than it is to tell Wendy?
Kyle shrugs placidly. "I wanna kiss you, but you're all the way down there," he mumbles.
Stan laughs and joins him at the head of the bed, letting Kyle kiss him lazily.
"Forget the shower," Kyle sighs. "Can't we just stay in bed all day?"
"Thought you wanted to go on a date. And a shower. I was promised a blowjob in the shower."
"Fuck it. I'll blow you here."
Stan laughs. "Sounds tempting, but I think Ike would want to know why we stayed in bed together all day, and I really can't think up a good excuse that doesn't involve traumatizing his little pre-teen mind."
"He could use a little traumatizing. I caught him going down on his teacher in a bathtub with a snorkle when he was in kindergarten. He could live through catching me in bed with you."
Stan shrugs. "Still not a good idea. And seriously, we need a shower."
Kyle sighs. "Since when are you the practical one?"
"Since I sucked your brain out through your dick," Stan says reasonably. "Come on. Shower now."
Kyle groans but lets Stan tug him up out of the bed. On the way to the bathroom, Kyle threads their fingers together and leans on Stan heavily.
It would just figure that's when Ike steps out of his bedroom, blinking sleepily, and spots them.
"Kyle?"
"Oh. Uh. Hey, Ike."
Ike rolls his eyes. "Do I want to know?" he asks, aiming his question more at Stan than at Kyle.
"Probably not."
Ike nods. "Yeah. Okay. Just let me know when I need to be out of the house, all right?"
"You okay?" Kyle asks.
Ike shrugs. "Not like I never suspected you too might be..." He waves a hand vaguely. "Anyway. Don't mind me. I'll just have some cereal and get out of your hair."
"Ike, you don't have to leave," Kyle says. "It's fine, really."
"I love you both," Ike says seriously, "but if I hear the two of you going at it...I seriously don't know how I would ever look either of you in the eye again. So. Cereal, and heading outside."
Kyle groans as Ike heads downstairs, but Stan rolls his eyes and ushers Kyle into the bathroom anyway.
"That was awful," Kyle says flatly.
"Dude, that went a hell of a lot better than I thought it would."
"My little brother is currently fleeing the house."
"Because he doesn't want to overhear us, not because he's mad at us. Kyle, dude, calm down."
Kyle sighs. "Yeah. Okay."
"Good. Now. Shower. Blowjob. I'm not particular about the order."
Kyle laughs, pins him against the shower door, and kisses him roughly.
Stan goes home around noon to pick up a fresh change of clothes for his bag—he doesn't know if Kyle will ask him to spend the night again, but if he does, Stan's sure as hell not going to say no—and ask his parents if he can borrow the car.
"Let me guess, North Park again?" his dad asks as he ponders the keys in his hand without actually handing them over.
"I don't know," Stan says. "Maybe. Me and Kyle are just gonna hang out."
"What's wrong with hanging out in South Park?" his father asks, and Stan bites his lip to avoid stating the true answer: Because people here will recognize us and make fun of us when they see us holding hands or kissing.
"Nothing," he answers. "Just wanted a change of pace."
His dad frowns in consideration before reluctantly handing the keys over. "All right, Stan, but I expect you to have that car back in this driveway before midnight."
Stan nods. That's generous and really more than he needs. "Thanks, Dad."
"You're welcome. You and Kyle be careful."
His face is perfectly blank when he says it and Stan knows he's only telling Stan to be careful while driving. But the thing is...hearing his father say that...it just suddenly hits him how very not-careful he's being. He's not being careful at all and he's going to fuck things up so bad by being reckless. Careful would be not doing this at all.
And he knows that. He knows he shouldn't be dating Kyle right now, not when Wendy's coming back in just under three weeks and he has to go back to her. But he's doing it anyway, and he can't help but wonder if it's going to lead to a proverbial car wreck.
"Yeah," he says and forces a smile. "We will, Dad."
When he gets back to Kyle's, Ike asks him if he'll come outside and throw a ball around with him while Kyle finishes searching for his wallet. Stan doesn't mind, so they head out into the cool evening air and Stan tosses the football in Ike's direction.
Ike catches it, tosses it back easily, and catches it a second time before he finally says, "Look, you know I think of you as like, another big brother, right?"
"Yeah," Stan answers. "Sure."
"So...this isn't easy for me to say, but um. We need to have one of those brother-to-boyfriend talks where I threaten to punch you if you hurt Kyle."
Stan stares at him. "What?"
"I told you it wasn't easy for me to say. I feel like I don't know which of you to threaten not to hurt the other one. You're like family, man. Just don't hurt him, okay?"
The pit in Stan's stomach that grew deeper at his father's words gets even bigger at Ike's. Yeah. He's going to hurt Kyle. And he and Kyle both know it.
"I'll try," he says, and somehow, lying to Ike feels like stabbing himself. Maybe it's just what the lie is about or maybe it's because Ike was right about Stan feeling like a part of the family. He doesn't know. But it hurts to say those words and know they're false.
Ike nods, satisfied. "Good. So when did you two start dating, anyway? Is that why he broke up with Justin?"
"Nah. He had a lot of reasons for that. This just started yesterday after you left the house."
Ike nods. "I won't tell anybody if you don't want me to."
"Thanks."
"So does this mean you're not with Wendy anymore?"
"Why?" Stan asks, rather than answering the question.
"She's pretty," Ike says. "Think I have a chance with her?"
"Well...just...you're twelve. And she's almost seventeen. So...not really. Sorry. Plus, you two disagree about everything."
"That's why they say that opposites attract," Ike points out. "But yeah. You're right. I'm too young for her."
"Sorry," Stan offers. "But, you know. Lots of pretty girls your age. If you need any advice..." He shrugs.
"Don't give him girl advice," Kyle says as he joins them. "Last thing he needs is a girlfriend."
"He's still bitter I lost my virginity before he did," Ike huffs.
"You were four," Kyle says. "I'm not jealous of being molested by a teacher."
"Well, yeah, there's that," Ike agrees.
"Seriously, Stan," Kyle says. "He does not need girl advice. He needs to avoid them for a few more years, graduate high school, and go to Yale."
"Oh, sure. You can have sex with Justin and Stan, but I can't date a girl," Ike says. "You're so not fair."
"You have bad luck with women," Kyle says flatly. "Anyway. You ready to go, Stan?"
"Yeah. I guess." He tosses the ball back to Ike. "Good arm. You should think about joining the team when you get old enough."
"Can't," Ike says with a shrug. "Don't have time between school and hockey."
Stan nods and follows Kyle to the car, waving goodbye to Ike as he goes.
"He gave me the, 'Don't hurt my big brother,' speech earlier," he says once they're inside.
"Figures," Kyle mutters. "He gave me a, 'Don't hurt my not-really-a-brother-but-feels-like-one,' speech before you got here."
"He's protective of us."
Kyle nods. "Yeah. He's going to hate us when school starts."
"Kyle..."
"I know, Stan. And I just...don't want to think about it."
Stan sighs and puts the car into gear. "I'm sorry," he says softly, but he's not sure if Kyle hears him.
When they get back to South Park that night, Stan drives the car to his house, drops the keys off with his dad, and grabs his bag, just in case Kyle invites him back to his house.
"Presumptuous," Kyle murmurs when he sees it.
"Yeah, well. You asked me to spend the night with you last night, so I figured better safe than sorry."
"My parents are coming home tomorrow evening," Kyle says. "So...this is probably the last night we'll have a chance to do that. Yeah. If you want to."
"I do," Stan answers. He wants to take Kyle's hand for the walk back to his place, but he doesn't.
It's one of the many, many reasons he and Kyle shouldn't be doing this. Stan is afraid to admit it.
He remembers when Kenny came out, how his dad threw him out of the house for over a week when he told them he was bisexual. He'd gone back and forth between Kyle's house and Stan's before he was finally allowed to go home.
Not that Stan thinks his parents would do that to him, but just the idea that there are people in town who would...it's scary.
"Hey, Stan?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm having a really good time with you."
"Yeah. Me, too."
"And now we're spending the night together again..."
"I know."
"So...I don't know. I was just thinking that this is...you know. Workable. Me and you. We're working like this."
"It's been a day," Stan points out.
"I know, but...I just...consider it, okay? That's all I'm saying."
Stan nods, but the request is unnecessary. That's kind of all he can think about, with or without him actually wanting to. Because the thing is...Kyle's right. They're best friends, they love each other, their families are good friends who might even be happy about it once they got over the shock, and now they're finding out they're sexually compatible. What more could Stan want?
The answer to that is simple, but no less easy to admit. A family. He wants that life where he gets to take care of the children. Fuck, where there even are children. That future isn't the one he could have with Kyle, no matter how good they are together, and it's just too much to give up.
"How was the date?" Ike asks when they get to Kyle's. He's slumped on the couch with a container of Oreos on his lap, smushing two of them together before holding it up. "Check it out. Quadruple stuffed." He pops it in his mouth and grins at them with a cookie-covered smile.
"It was good," Kyle answers. "We went to North Park and had dinner. And then we saw, um...some kind of movie."
"You two were making out too much to even notice what it was, weren't you?" Ike asks, but his eyes are locked onto his cookies as he tries to stick three of them together into what looks like a Big Mac made out of Oreos. "Guys, look. What's the word for six? Oh, right. Sextuple stuffed. Speaking of which." He glances at the two of them. "Heh heh. Get it?"
"Ew, Ike, that's sick," Kyle says.
Ike grins. "It took me two hours to think that one up after you left. I even wrote it down on the palm of my hand so I wouldn't forget. See?" He holds his hand up, palm outwards, in demonstration.
Kyle rolls his eyes. "Did you at least have a decent dinner before you started Quadruple stuffing?"
"Ordered City Wok," Ike says offhandedly. "There's some left in the fridge if you want it later after you two work up an appetite."
"You're such a dick," Kyle says. "Seriously. It's weird when you make jokes like that."
"Fair enough," Ike agrees. "But seriously, I'm sleeping with my headphones on, so...have at it. It's cool. Good night."
"Night," Kyle says.
"Yeah. Night, Ike," Stan agrees, and Ike waves him up the stairs.
"He doesn't mean anything by it," Stan tells him as they head down the hall to Kyle's room. "It's just his way of dealing with us, you know. And they're not really mean jokes, anyway."
"I know," Kyle says. "It's still weird for my little brother to talk about stuff like that. He's my brother. And he's only twelve, anyway."
"Yeah, and he's had an IQ four points higher than yours since he was three."
"Ugh. Don't remind me."
Stan laughs. "Sorry, Kyle. You're not the only genius in your family. You'll just have to live with it."
"What if I need some cheering up to deal with it?"
Stan laughs. "Is that your way of trying to coax sex out of me? 'Cause you can just ask. Not like I'm going to say no."
"Seemed rude to just say, 'Hey, Stan. I love you. Now get on your knees.'"
Stan's stomach twists at Kyle's words. Why is it so easy for Kyle to say, "I love you," and so hard for him?
"That what you want?" Stan asks. "My mouth?"
"I...yeah. Maybe."
Stan nods and kneels down, unhooking the button on Kyle's jeans and pushing them down his hips.
"Remember to be quiet," he says. "Don't want Ike to hear."
Kyle laughs and groans, embarrassed. "Don't. I'll be quiet."
Stan has given Kyle three blowjobs since yesterday afternoon and he's still not getting tired of it. Sure, his jaw aches and that's never fun, but the thing is...it's just good. He's always liked pleasing the person he's with, never more so than with Kyle, and Kyle's cock just begs to be sucked. It's a dick that was made to be touched by Stan and Stan's more than happy to touch, lick, and suck it for as long as Kyle will let him or until his jaw just tells him to fuck off and die, whichever comes first.
He sucks on one of his own fingers and carefully eases it into Kyle, searching for his prostate. He knows he's found it when Kyle groans and touches the top of his head like he wants to wind his fingers through Stan's hair, then lets go and just braces his hands against the wall.
"Fuck, Stan...yeah. God. Fuck."
Stan kind of doesn't want to stop doing this, but he knows how much it can suck to have to wait for an orgasm, so he redoubles his efforts and lets Kyle come in his mouth.
"Fuck," Kyle pants. "You just...you're so fucking good at that."
Stan grins. "Yeah?"
Kyle nods and tugs Stan back to his feet, pins him against the wall, and kisses him.
"I just...I don't know. I want to be with you anyway, but knowing that you're so fucking good at that is just...makes it even worse to think about—"
"Then don't think about it," Stan says softly. "Just kiss me. Be with me now and stop worrying."
"I'm trying," Kyle replies back in a hushed voice. "My mind just...it's always thinking, Stan. Even when I don't want it to."
"Then let me shut it up," Stan answers, and kisses Kyle as he backs them up towards the bed.
They fall onto it with Stan on top, still kissing as Kyle's fingers wind their way into his hair.
"You still thinking?" Stan asks.
"Not as much."
"Kyle..."
"You don't have to say anything."
"Do you...do you think we could?"
"I don't think there's a way for us to not. We have to, Stan. We just have to 'cause I don't know how to go back. How can I just be your friend after this? After I've been in love with you?"
Stan sighs and rolls off of him, taking Kyle's hand in his.
"I don't know."
Kyle sighs. "I won't bring it up anymore. I'm sorry. This is hard enough as it is without me talking about it."
"You have every right to talk about it," Stan says fairly.
"I don't want to. I just want to focus on you, like you said."
"So what now?"
Kyle shrugs. "I guess now I kiss you."
"And after that?"
"I'm not sure."
The idea that even Kyle's not sure is a scary one and Stan's pretty sure he's shaking from head to toe. Kyle is always sure. He always knows what to do and how to do it and the idea that he's just as lost and helpless right now as Stan is just terrifying.
"You tired?" Stan asks.
"No. You?"
"No. Why?"
"Dunno. Thought..." Kyle shrugs. "If you wanted...I mean..."
Oh. That. "No," Stan answers.
"What?" Kyle asks, looking hurt.
"No, I mean..." Stan sighs. "I want to. I do. You know that. But not right after we've been talking about all that. I don't want to be thinking about that stuff when I think about the first time me and you did that, okay?"
Kyle nods slowly. "I guess that makes sense."
"You're not mad?"
"No. I get it."
"Maybe tomorrow?"
"Maybe I won't be in the mood tomorrow," Kyle teases.
"And you're in the mood now?"
"No," Kyle admits. "I just...this is our last chance to sleep together and I can't...imagine not if we do that. How do you do that and then just kick the other guy out of bed?"
"Yeah. I get that. Maybe we can work something out later, though. Sleep over or something. I don't know. I'm sorry."
Kyle nods. "You want me to—"
Stan shakes his head. "Not feeling very..." He shrugs. "God, Kyle, I'm so fucking sorry."
Kyle squeezes his hand in response and they lay there on their backs staring at the ceiling silently until they fall asleep.
When Stan wakes up the next morning, he's in bed alone and he gropes blindly for Kyle before finally giving up and heading downstairs.
"Morning," he says when he spots Ike sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper. "Where's Kyle?"
"We were out of milk. He went to the store to get some. I offered so you two could have morning sex, but he said he wanted to do it. Something wrong?"
Great. Now Kyle's avoiding him. Perfect.
"It's fine," Stan says, forcing a smile. "How'd you sleep?"
"Good," Ike says. "Couldn't hear a thing 'cause of the headphones."
Stan doesn't bother telling him that there wasn't much to hear.
"Good. Yeah. Um, how long's he been gone?"
"Stan, is there something wrong?"
"It's fine. Really. Don't worry about it."
"You just seem...upset. And Kyle was acting weird. You're not breaking up already, are you? You can't. I like you two together."
Stan sighs. "I don't think we are."
Ike puts the newspaper down and stares at him. "You guys aren't allowed to break up. I don't care who called who fat or who put their dick somewhere the other one didn't want it to be. Just make up. You're not allowed to break up."
Stan laughs, but Ike is staring at him in a way that's completely fucking serious.
"Ike, we'll...work it out. And if we can't, it's...you know, that's on me and Kyle, okay? Just let us figure it out. It's not—"
"My business. Yeah, I know. I just...it would really, really suck if you did."
"Well...hopefully that won't happen," Stan offers.
"Stan, you can't."
"Why do you care?"
"Because you make my brother happy," Ike says. "And he makes you happy. You've been best friends since birth or something. And you love him, don't you?"
Stan hesitates, but nods. "Yeah. I do."
"And he loves you. No one's ever going to love you as much as Kyle does. And do you really think you'll ever love someone as much as you do him? I just don't see it happening, Stan. You two look at each other and it's like..." He shakes his head. "You fit here. With Kyle. With us. Our dads are best friends, our moms are friends, too, and my parents love you. And your parents love Kyle, too. It just...it makes sense. You fit here. With us. You're already a part of this family, anyway. And you guys love each other. I...I don't understand why you'd not..."
Ike pauses and stares at him, horrified. "You're still with Wendy, aren't you?"
Stan sighs. "Yes."
"And you're not breaking up with her when she gets back, either, are you?"
"No."
Ike stares at him. "And Kyle knows that, doesn't he?"
"Yes."
Ike's face makes Stan hurt and he can't look at it for too long without feeling sick.
"How could you do this?" Ike asks. "I...how could you do this to him? To..." He doesn't say, "to me," but Stan knows he's thinking it, and his stomach twists even more at the knowledge that Ike cares that much about this.
"Ike...this wasn't supposed to happen. Me and Kyle...it was never supposed to be like this. It just happened and I told him I was still going to be with her when she got back, and he said he'd rather have three weeks than nothing at all."
"You're going to destroy him," Ike says numbly. "Why? What could she possibly be offering you that he can't?"
After all of Ike's talk about how Stan is a part of his family, it feels ridiculous to answer the question, but he finally sighs and admits, "With her...I can have a family."
"What?"
"Kids. A marriage."
"That's bullshit," Ike spits. "You can marry Kyle. It's legal here and we're reform, so you can even have a marriage ceremony with our rabbi. Well, if you convert, anyway, you can. And either way, it's still legal here. And kids? Ever heard of adopting? Hi. I was born Peter Ike Gints to Canadian parents and now I'm Ike Moisha Broflovski and these people are my family."
"Ike..."
"No," Ike snaps, and now the pain has moved into his voice, too. "You promised me you wouldn't hurt him and you are and for no fucking good reason. The two of you are crazy about each other and you can have exactly what you want with him and you're too fucking—I don't even know what your problem is, but it's something wrong with you—to just love him."
"Ike, I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. You can't be. If you were sorry, you'd make the right choice. You'd just be with him and be happy. You can have a family with him and you can be happy and you're just...refusing to be happy. Why? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Stan stares at the table for a long time before answering, "I don't know."
"I trusted you," Ike says. "I...I looked up to you, Stan. I really do think of you as a brother. That wasn't bullshit. And you're doing this to Kyle? It's...when you're back with her, do you know who's going to be the one to try and console him? Me. But what am I supposed to say to him, Stan? 'He's not worth crying over?' 'It's not like you loved him, or anything?' 'He didn't love you, so fuck him?' None of those things are true, Stan. I just...I can't believe someone I loved and trusted would do this to the one person on the planet who's supposed to mean that much to him."
"Ike—"
"Do you know how happy I was when I saw you two together? I thought, 'Awesome. They're going to be so good together. They're going to love each other and take care of each other,' and the idea that the two of you could ever possibly break up didn't even cross my mind. It just wasn't an option. Because it's the two of you. Fuck, I was planning your wedding in my head."
"What?"
"I'm my mother's son. Can we move on?" Ike interrupts. "The point is, I was ready to welcome you to the family as my brother-in-law. And I don't know. Maybe that's my fault for jumping the gun. I shouldn't have made that leap. But what you're doing to him is still unbelievably awful."
"Ike, it's his choice, okay? I said no until he wouldn't take no for an answer anymore."
"I don't care," Ike says. "I don't. You could've gone home. Even if he wouldn't take no the first time, you didn't have to come back here yesterday after you left. You took him on a date and you came back here and slept with him again, and you didn't have to do that. That was your choice."
"Ike, it's not that simple. Look, you're only twelve. You don't understand."
"I have a higher IQ than Kyle, and definitely higher than yours," Ike fires back. "I understand a lot of things and I'm not fucking stupid."
"I know you're smart. I didn't mean that. I meant you don't understand about relationships 'cause—"
"You've been dating Wendy since you were eight when you love and always have loved Kyle more than her. And I'm the one who doesn't understand relationships? Fuck you."
"Ike—"
"No. Just...no. How do you expect me to sit here and watch you guys do this to each other?"
"I don't. I expect you to realize it's not your business and—"
The door opens and Kyle steps inside, kicking off his shoes as he shuts it behind him.
"Morning," he says awkwardly. "I uh, got milk for breakfast."
"I'm not hungry anymore," Ike says angrily, and storms up the stairs. A moment later, a door slams, and Stan winces.
"What happened?" Kyle asks after he's put the milk into the refrigerator. "Something wrong with him?"
Stan stares down at the table. "He found out about us."
"He already knew about us."
"No, about...um. About me. And Wendy."
Kyle freezes. "Why did you tell him that? You know it's only going to upset him."
"Kyle, it's not my fault your little brother is freaky-smart and figured it out. And it's not my fault that he's overly invested in our relationship, either. I'm sorry, okay?"
Kyle sighs and drops down into Ike's vacated chair. "I...Stan..."
"Why'd you leave this morning? I woke up alone."
Kyle shrugs without looking at him. "I just kept thinking...no matter what I offer you, it's never good enough. I want to date you, but you want Wendy more. I offer to let you fuck me, but you won't because of something that happened earlier. You keep making up reasons not to take what I'm offering you and I just...didn't know how much more of it I could take."
"Kyle...I wasn't rejecting you. I just...if we're going to do that, shouldn't it be...good?"
Kyle shrugs. "It wasn't just that. It's everything. I can't think of any reason why you'd want to pick Wendy over me, but you are. So it's just...never mind."
Carefully, Stan reaches across the table and takes Kyle's hand. "I'm sorry," he says, and waits for Kyle to jerk his hand away.
"Yeah. I know." And for what feels like forever, the room is silent. Then, Kyle adds, "I don't think we should do this anymore."
Stan tries to keep breathing, but he can't and it's all he can do to squeak out an, "Okay."
Kyle lets go of his hand and rises from the table without looking at him before heading upstairs. Stan waits until he hears the click of Kyle's bedroom door being shut before he leaves.
Part 4
