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myficsTitle: My Future's Bound [4/4]
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. 6,177 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.
"What's the matter, dude?" Kenny asks, his voice muffled by his parka. "Isn't Wendy coming back today?"
Stan nods. "She's coming over tonight after she gets settled back in."
"So shouldn't you be excited?" Kenny asks. "Or, you know, visibly alive?"
Stan pauses to take an inventory of his current situation. He's camped out on his parents' couch in the same pajamas he put on three days ago, there are cheetos stains on his shirt, he hasn't moved in at least three hours, and he's stolen two of his dad's beers, and that's just since his parents went to work three hours ago.
"I'm fine," Stan mutters.
"Dude, you've been acting weird for like...two and a half weeks. What the fuck happened?"
Stan shrugs and stares straight ahead. The Price is Right is on. Huh. When did they get a new host?
"Fuck, Stan. What small animal crawled up your ass and died?"
"Mr. Slave always said that wasn't an accurate metaphor for being upset and it kind of indicated the opposite..."
"Mr. Slave also dated Garrison," Kenny says, waving a hand absently. "You can't really go by what he thinks is good. Now what the fuck happened to you?"
Stan sighs. It's not really his secret to tell. Kyle probably wouldn't want Kenny knowing about what happened between them. But if he doesn't get it off his chest, Stan thinks he might explode.
"I hooked up with Kyle," he says quietly.
"Are you fucking insane?"
"Yes," Stan says firmly. No sense in lying. "Justin broke up with him and he turned out to be like, this really awful anti-Semetic douche and Kyle was upset and I ended up blowing him and then he realized I was in love with him and just...ugh. I spent the night with him. Twice. And I told him I was staying with Wendy and when he realized how hard it was going to be, he just...said it was over and it's been two and a half weeks and I can't stop thinking about him. And Wendy. How am I going to face Wendy? What do I say to her? How do I look her in the eye after what I've done? Ugh, Kenny, just kill me now."
"You can't come back afterwards," Kenny murmurs.
"Good."
"Trust me," Kenny says seriously. "Dying isn't fun."
"Neither is this. Fuck, I can't believe I did that."
Kenny sighs and settles himself on the floor, leaning back against the couch. "Can I ask you something?"
"I guess."
"Why are you going back to her? If you love Kyle...it just doesn't really make sense to me. Fucking other people, I can get that. Just sex. But it's not just sex with you and Kyle. So..." He shrugs. "Just explain it to me."
And that would pretty much be the moment Stan loses his shit and has to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands and bite his lip to keep from sobbing.
"Because it's expected of me," he says simply. "When you've been with someone since it was still weird to hold a girl's hand...I'm supposed to marry her and have kids with her. And I love her, Kenny. I do. That's not a lie."
"But you love Kyle, right? More than her?"
"Yeah."
"So then..."
"I'm not supposed to be with Kyle, I'm supposed to be with her. And if it was just that, maybe I could pick him. But I love her, too, so it's like...why would I give that up?"
Kenny turns to look him straight in the eye and tugs down his parka enough to remove the obstruction from his mouth so he can speak clearly. "Because he's Kyle, you idiot," he says, and then settles back into place.
"Yeah," Stan says softly. "I know."
"Idiot," Kenny repeats, but doesn't say another word.
***
When his parents get home from work, his dad forces him to shower ("You have to look nice for your lady, Stan. All men want to sit around on the couch eating cheetos and watching football all day, but that's why we have our women, all right?"), so he's more or less clean and human-shaped when Wendy shows up that afternoon.
"Stan!" she says happily, throwing her arms around his neck. "I've missed you." She hugs him tightly before adding, "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh."
"Hi, Wendy," his dad says, overlapping with his mother's, "Hello, dear."
"We're gonna go for a walk," Stan says. "I'll be back later, all right?"
His parents wave him off and he listens to Wendy's stories of third world countries and helping the poor until they reach the park and settle down on a bench.
"...and he shook my hand. It was so inspirational. Anyway, what did you do this summer?" she asks.
What's he supposed to say to that? Certainly not the truth. "I explored my sexuality by fucking around with a lot of guys," and "I realized I'm in love with someone else," are not good, "Welcome home, Wendy," messages.
Stan opens his mouth, shuts it again, and shakes his head without answering.
"Stan?" she asks. "Is something wrong?"
Yes. Everything. Thanks for asking.
"No," he says. "Tell me about meeting Bono while you were in Africa."
"Something's wrong," she says shrewdly. "You've barely looked at me, you wouldn't hold my hand when we were walking, and now you won't talk to me. Did something happen this summer?"
Maybe if she weren't looking at him with such open concern, he'd be able to shrug it off or lie to her, but fuck. He owes her honesty.
"I have to tell you something you're not going to like," he says, turning away from her so he doesn't have to see her eyes.
"What?"
"I...I started seeing someone over the summer while you were gone."
She sighs. "I figured you would. But I guess I should admit...I wasn't...I hooked up with a few of my fellow volunteers. I mean, after the sun went down, there wasn't much else to do, you know? And you put a bunch of teenagers together like that...it just happened. A lot. So...I understand. If you can forgive me, I forgive you."
"Guys," he says. "I hooked up with guys."
"And I hooked up with a few girls. And I forgive you if—"
"No, Wendy...I dated them. One of them."
"Well, there was a guy there that I—"
"No. I...fuck, Wendy, I'm so sorry. I fell for him."
She stares at him, concern quickly replaced by hurt in her eyes. "Oh."
"Kyle," he adds, though if he knows her, she's already figured that part out.
"Of course."
"Wendy, I'm so sorry. You know I love you. But..." He finds himself easily saying the words he never thought he could. They pour out of him like nothing at all and that should be scary, but it's slowly dawning on him that a lot of things that would be scary with other people just aren't when it comes to Kyle. "But I love him more," he says. "And it's not fair to you, him, or me to be with you when I feel this way. So I don't think we should be together anymore. I'm so sorry, Wendy. I really am."
She gasps, a small noise that's colored with tears. "Okay."
"If you hate me, I don't blame you."
"I don't hate you," she says. "Kyle's important to you. I get that."
"Wendy—"
She sighs. "I should get home. I'm tired. If you were wanting my blessing or something, you can have it. I need some time to deal with it, but...I just want you to be happy. So..." She shrugs. "I'll see you around, Stan."
She kisses him on the cheek before exiting the park, and he sits, stunned, for almost five minutes before he takes off at a run towards Kyle's house.
He rings the doorbell three times before Kyle's mother answers the door.
"Oh, hello, Stanley. We were just sitting down to dinner. There's plenty if you'd like to join us."
"I just need to talk to Kyle," he says. "Is he here?"
"No!" Ike shouts from the other room.
Mrs. Broflovski makes a face before stepping aside to let Stan in. "He's in the dining room," she says.
When he gets there, Ike is glaring daggers at him and Kyle looks miserable, while Kyle's dad just looks curious.
"Hey," Stan says. "Can I talk to you upstairs really fast?"
"No," Ike says.
Kyle shoots Ike a stay out of it look, but answers, "No," anyway.
"Please, I just need to talk to you."
"So talk," Kyle says, and slumps in his chair like someone just added a twenty-pound weight onto his shoulders.
Stan hesitates, glances at Kyle's parents, and shrugs. Kyle must know what he wants to say, right? He has to. And if he's fine with Stan saying it in front of his parents, then okay.
"I'm in love with you," he says, looking right into Kyle's eyes.
If Kyle's parents react to that, Stan doesn't hear him, though he can see Ike looking delighted out of the corner of his eye.
"What?"
"I'm in love with you," Stan says again. "Wendy came back today and I told her the truth and broke up with her. Because...I choose you, Kyle. And I'm so sorry for what I put you through. I should've done this weeks ago. Maybe a year ago. Before now, definitely. But you're the one I choose because I'm so completely in love with you that I just...what the hell was I thinking? Thinking that I could be with anyone else?"
Kyle stares at him before asking in a very numb voice, "Mom, may I please be excused from the table?"
Stan doesn't really hear her answer, but Kyle stands, grabs Stan's hand, and pulls him along roughly until they're outdoors before yelling, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Telling you I love you."
Kyle shoves his hands into his pockets and heads off up the street, so Stan follows him a few paces behind.
"How could you do that in front of my parents?"
"You said talk. I tried to get you to come outside."
"Stan...you don't get to jerk me around like this. You don't."
"I'm not jerking you around."
"Sure, you're not."
"Kyle, I ended it with her. I told her the truth."
"Stan..."
"You're pissed. I get it. But you still love me."
Kyle stops and stares at him for a long time before he finally admits, "Yeah."
"I want to be with you. For real this time."
"Stan..."
"Shh," Stan answers, and kisses him, right there on the street where anyone could see.
"What now?" Kyle asks.
"Remember when I said that the day we finally went all the way, it should be happy and special?"
"Yeah."
"This is that kind of day."
"We can't go back to my place," Kyle says. "They're not going to leave us alone in my bedroom together. And I can almost guarantee my mom's called yours to talk about what a shidduch we are."
"What?"
"Good match."
"Oh. Right. Yeah. She probably has. It might've been a good idea to tell my parents before I told yours, huh?"
Kyle nods. "So...what now?"
"Now you get your ass back in here and have dinner," Ike shouts from the doorway of Kyle's house. "It's a family dinner, you know."
"You want to?" Kyle asks, offering his hand.
Stan nods. "Sure. Might as well eat before my parents show up to yell at me for spending the night with you all those times."
Kyle's parents are really nice to him all through dinner, which feels so weird, but so good. He can't believe they're not angry or worried, but they're not. They just smile at him and treat him warmly and include him in conversation.
Of course, twenty minutes later, his parents show up and inform them that Stan spent the weekend with Kyle three weeks ago, but. Until then, things are good.
"Ike, bubbeleh," Kyle's mom says, "I think you should go on up to your room now so we can speak to Stan and Kyle alone."
Ike grumbles all the way up the stairs about how he should get to be there and it's not fair to send him to his room, but he goes anyway.
"Stan," his dad says firmly, "explain yourself."
"I..." Stan glances at Kyle, who shrugs, but holds his hand tighter. "I'm in love with Kyle. I should've told you guys that."
"I'm not talking about that, and you know it," his dad says. "That's fine. But you lied to us and stayed over here with Kyle for an entire weekend when his parents were gone, and I know teenagers think their parents are stupid, but we're not that stupid."
Stan steels himself before answering, "Yes. We were...doing what you think we were doing. But it's not like one of us is going to get pregnant or anything," he adds hastily. "And we love each other and you always told us growing up that that's what two people did when they were in love."
Okay. That one is technically true, but he's pushing it, and he knows it. Oh, well.
"Yeah. What he said," Kyle says to his own parents. They don't look quite as angry as Stan thinks his own do, but they're still not happy.
"We also told you to wait until you were old enough to make that kind of decision," his dad counters.
"Dad...it wasn't like that was my first time. I mean...I did have a girlfriend for eight years."
His dad stares. "You're not helping your point, Stan."
"I just meant...me and Kyle are old enough and mature enough to figure out if we're ready for that, and we are. And we'll be safe and neither of us can get pregnant, so you don't even have to worry about that. And um..."
"And we love each other," Kyle hisses under his breath.
"Right," Stan says. "And we love each other. Which is the important part. And you told us that having sex was a normal part of being in love."
"That's true," Kyle's dad says. "We did tell them that."
"Oh, don't tell me you're on their side," Stan's dad says.
"I'm not encouraging them to do it," Kyle's dad says with a shrug. "But they're teenagers, Randy. Don't you remember being a teenager? If they really want to, they're going to do it anyway."
"Then they should do it in the back of a car while looking around to make sure there aren't any cops driving by like we had to when we were their age."
"Well, what they're doing isn't exactly easy in the backseat of a car."
"Then—"
Stan's dad goes off on another argument as Kyle leans over and whispers into Stan's ear, "Are our dads really debating the plausibility of us fucking in a car?"
"I think so," Stan sighs. "Ugh."
"All right, all right," Mrs. Broflovski interrupts the two arguing dads. "Now listen. Sixteen is old enough to consent in Colorado. If the boys want to have sex, then they're going to have sex. End of story. And Gerald's right. It's really not fair to force them to hide it, especially since we already know about it. At least this way we can encourage them to be safe and smart about it."
It takes a lot more sputtering and a lot of rule-laying-down before Stan's dad reluctantly agrees that she has a point. He's still not happy about it, Stan knows, though underneath that, he can tell that it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he's dating a guy now, which is good. He had hopes that his parents would be all right with that part, and they are. And it's understandable that neither set of parents would be happy about their soon-to-be seventeen-year-olds are having sex. So it's fine. They're allowed to sleep over on non-school nights as long as they keep up with their schoolwork and no one else in the house has to hear whatever it is they're doing when they're alone together.
And Stan can live with that. He was hoping maybe they'd be allowed time alone together, but actually being able to spend the night? To sleep with Kyle like they did that first night? Yeah. He can absolutely live with that.
And finally they're allowed to head upstairs after a lot of apologizing to their parents and thanking them for being okay with this.
Kyle's all but dragging him towards the bedroom, but Stan stops outside of Ike's and says, "Go on. I need to talk to Ike real quick."
He knocks and waits for permission to enter and immediately says, "I'm sorry," as soon as Ike says it's okay to come in.
"It's okay."
"No," Stan says. "It's really not. And I'm sorry. You were right about pretty much everything."
"I know." Ike grins. "So what happened downstairs?"
"We're allowed to stay over as long as we're safe, don't start getting bad grades in school or do it on school nights, and stay quiet so no one can hear us," Stan says.
Ike grins. "Awesome."
"So we're cool?"
Ike hugs him tightly. "I can't wait for you to be my brother-in-law. And yeah, yeah, I'm jumping the gun again. Don't care. It's totally going to happen."
Stan laughs. "We'll see."
"You going to Kyle's room now?"
Stan nods.
"I don't think any guy in the history of the world has ever felt happier about his brother getting laid," Ike sighs. "Seriously. Go. Be happy. I'm glad."
Stan pats Ike on the back before telling him goodnight and heading down the hallway to Kyle's bedroom.
When he gets there, Kyle is already on the bed waiting for him and yeah. Kyle's waiting for him.
Stan doesn't even know how he makes it to the bed without falling over, but it's clearly some kind of miracle or sign that this is supposed to happen.
And Kyle...fuck. He's just as perfect as he's always been, hard already and waiting for Stan to touch him.
Kissing Kyle is like finding his way home again and he wants to touch every inch of his skin and map it out so he knows the way.
"Stan—" Kyle gasps when Stan tugs his shirt off and licks a circle around one of Kyle's nipples.
"Mm?"
"There's—fuck. There's lube and condoms in that drawer."
Stan nods. Later. He definitely will. But for now, this is good.
So he kisses his way down Kyle's chest and damn near breaks the zipper on Kyle's jeans in his haste to get them down.
He gets one lick up the vein on Kyle's cock before Kyle grabs him by the shoulders and flips them over.
"What—"
"I don't want to wait," Kyle says. "I'm sorry. But I've been waiting and waiting and I just...can't do it anymore. I need to see what this is like with you."
"Oh. Yeah."
Stan feels a little numb at how much Kyle wants him, but it's not like saying, 'No,' is any kind of option.
"Do you want me to bottom?" Kyle asks. "Or the other way? I don't care, Stan. I really don't. I just have to see."
And suddenly it hits Stan that he has a choice here. He'd been assuming the first time they did this, he'd fuck Kyle. Kyle said he would give Stan that, since he'd never done it before. But he still won't have done it tomorrow or next week or whenever it is that they do it that way, because the only person he wants to do it with is Kyle. So he knows what he wants and now all he has to do is ask for it.
"You on top," Stan says. "Is that okay? We can do it the other way soon, but...fine, you weren't technically the first, but you're the first one who counts."
Kyle kisses him even as he gropes blindly at the bedside table until he comes up with a bottle of lube.
"Fuck, Stan, are you sure?"
"You told me you'd have made it good for me. So now's your chance," Stan whispers. "Please. I trust you. I know you won't hurt me like he did."
Kyle nods solemnly, like he's making a very important promise, and pulls Stan's shirt off before moving down to his jeans and tugging those off as well.
Stan feels more exposed than usual having Kyle look at him like this, knowing what they're about to do, but...he's not scared. Kyle will do this the right way and Stan trusts that. And he trusts that if something did hurt, Kyle would stop and do something to make him feel better. Because like he told Kyle when he was considering breaking up with Justin, when you really love someone, you respect them and take care of them in bed. And Kyle really, really loves him.
"Just try to relax," Kyle cautions.
"Okay," Stan answers, and takes a deep calming breath as Kyle slips one finger into him.
"I'm gonna take care of you," Kyle says. "I promise. I'll make this as good as it should've been the first time."
"I know you will."
"I love you, you know that?"
"I know. I love you, too."
Kyle pushes a second finger in next to the first, very carefully and very slowly.
"You okay?"
Stan nods. "I'm fine. It doesn't start to hurt until the third finger, usually."
"I'll go slow, then."
The more and more Kyle stretches him, the more and more it hurts. It's not Kyle's fault and he gets used to it after a few minutes, but it still hurts every time Kyle slips another finger inside him.
"I'm sorry," Kyle says. "Please, relax."
"I am," Stan promises. "It's just...fuck. Just give me a minute and I'll be okay."
"You sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," Stan says firmly. "This is what two people do when they love each other."
"I know, but we can do it the other way. I'm more used to it than you are. And you had a bad experience last time, so that's bound to make you nervous—"
"Kyle. Please, just fuck me."
"Now?"
"No, next week. Yes, now."
"Stan, I can't. You're not ready. And if I do it now, it'll hurt. Which, I don't know. Maybe some day might be a little fun if you're into that. But not now, Stan. Please. Not when I'm trying to make love to you."
Stan freezes. "O—okay."
It takes another ten minutes before Kyle finally decides Stan is loose enough to be fucked, and it's ten minutes too long, Stan thinks. He gets it in the abstract, why Kyle needed to wait, but it doesn't change the fact that he wants Kyle as soon as possible.
"You okay doing it on your back?" Kyle asks when he finally slips his fingers free and rolls on a condom. "Or do you want to do it on your knees, or—"
"Like this. On my back."
Kyle nods and slicks his cock up before arranging Stan's legs over his shoulders.
"This might hurt," Kyle admits. "Just a little. But I promise once I'm inside, it starts to feel better."
"I trust you."
A little. Yeah. Right. More like oh my God, I can't breathe, this hurts, make it stop, please make it stop—oh.
The second Kyle slips inside him, the edge eases off the pain, though it still aches. But it's tolerable. It's just a dull ache in the back of his mind that he can live with if it means knowing Kyle is inside him.
Kyle's face twists in concentration as he carefully works himself inside, inch by inch, until finally, Stan feels Kyle's thighs against him.
"Fuck," Kyle breathes and kisses his calf. "Are you okay?"
It's roughly the ten thousandth time he's asked Stan that, but Stan doesn't care. Kyle is type of guy who is genuinely interested in the answer every single time and it's just one of the many, many reasons Stan is in love with him.
"Yeah. I'm...okay."
"Do you want me to stop?"
"Don't you dare."
Kyle laughs and kisses him, breathless and lazy. "You are just so..."
"Tight?"
"I was going to say amazing but, yeah. That, too."
Stan grins, a little embarrassed, but also just...really, really happy.
"Can you—"
"Hmm?"
"Can you just fuck me now?"
Kyle blinks at him and laughs again. "Yeah. I can do that."
It feels so much better than his first time did, the perfect slide of Kyle inside him, the way Kyle kisses him stupid as his cock takes care of what little brain function the kissing didn't knock out. And he can't breathe or think or do anything except beg Kyle for more.
"Stan?"
"Yeah?"
"Touch yourself, okay?"
"What?"
"Jerk yourself off. I want you to come while I'm fucking you."
Stan groans and grabs the bottle of lube, slicks his palm, and wraps it around his cock. He groans at the contact and Kyle traces the shell of his ear with his tongue before whispering, "I want to see you fall apart, Stan. Want you to come all over yourself with me inside you. Want you to—"
Whatever else Kyle might want him to do, Stan never finds out because the sound of his own gasps and moans and Kyle, Kyle, Kyles drowns him out.
And he just keeps coming. Long after his cock has stopped twitching, his entire body shakes as Kyle moves within him, setting his over-sensitive nerves on fire.
And when Kyle comes...fuck. It's possibly one of the best moments of Stan's life, just laying there, watching Kyle's face as he comes inside of Stan.
And then he's laying more on top of Stan than off, still inside him, and Stan has his arms around Kyle, keeping him in place.
"So," Stan says quietly. "How was it?"
Kyle laughs and rolls off of him, leaving him feeling empty inside.
"It was perfect," Kyle says, sighing contentedly.
"It wasn't perfect," Stan says fairly.
Kyle shrugs. "Room for improvement. For a first time? Yeah. It was perfect."
"You just wait 'til that orgasm wears off. You'll be critiquing my performance."
"Nope. 'Cause you know what, Stan? I love you just the way you are."
"Are you going to give a gay little speech now?"
"Maybe."
"Don't," Stan answers. "I get it. I love you just the way you are, too."
***
"Ten to one says my mom has bought you some kind of Star of David necklace," Kyle murmurs as they step out of the plane and head up the walkway into the airport.
Stan grins. "I'm surprised she didn't fly out for my hatafat dam brit."
"I think the only reason she didn't was because she knew she wouldn't be allowed in the room."
Kyle laughs. "Yeah. You're probably right. Wait, did you remember to pack your conversion certificate to show to the rabbi here?"
"Mhm," Stan answers. "It's in our suitcase. Chill out, man. Your mom's thrown this whole thing together. All we have to do is show up and sign the ketubah."
"I wish it were that simple," Kyle laments. "She'll probably want to throw you a conversion party. And then there's the wedding, after which is another party."
"What's wrong with partying?"
"When I have to be back on the east coast by Monday to start my internship? A lot."
Stan shrugs and pulls Kyle along into the airport. Their families are there, waiting and happy. They both get wrapped up in crushing hugs by their mothers before being handed off as Kyle's mom squishes Stan tightly.
Finally, they're released from their mothers' grips, and as predicted, Kyle's mom holds a small box out to Stan and says, "Stanley, bubbeleh, a gift for you."
He opens it and acts surprised, thanking her before slipping it around his neck and following them out to pick up their bags.
After that, he loses track of what's happening until he realizes he's in the back of his parents' car and Kyle isn't.
"Hey, what's—"
"It's your wedding night," his dad says. "You're not supposed to see the groom before the wedding."
"Dad, we've been together for ten years and we've lived together for eight. The groom has effectively been seen."
"Still. It's tradition."
"But my clothes are in that suitcase. We only packed the one."
"Don't worry about it. We'll take care of it."
"But—"
"Oh, let us parents have our fun," his mom says. "At least let us pretend."
Stan rolls his eyes. "But—"
"It's just one night."
Stan sighs. He doesn't want to sleep alone. He's not even sure he can. He's only done that a handful of times since they left for college, when Kyle had to pull all-nighters for med school.
He sighs, slumping against the seat. "Fine. I guess the answer is yes, but everything's taken care of for the wedding tomorrow, right?"
"Of course. Caterers called, flowers bought, invitations sent. Everyone RSVPed except Eric Cartman."
"He didn't RSVP?"
His mom bites her lip before admitting, "He sent back a letter detailing why his soul would be burned right out of his body if he stepped foot in a synagogue or on otherwise Jewish ground. I called his mother and threw it out."
Stan rolls his eyes. Of course Cartman still lives with his mom. And of course he won't come to their wedding. He's Cartman.
"Did Shelley already come in?"
"Yeah. You might want to be extra-nice to her, though. She's in her seventh month and she's started to get cranky."
Stan groans. Why couldn't he and Kyle have just stayed in a hotel? Why?
He manages to keep his mouth shut through dinner and consequently avoids being thrown into a wall by his pregnant sister or by his brother-in-law, Keith, on her orders.
He even manages to make polite small talk with his parents until finally he spots a chance to sneak out and starts heading for Stark's Pond.
He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and texts Kyle, asking him to meet him there.
Finally, twenty minutes later, Kyle arrives, looking harried.
"My house is full of obscure relatives," Kyle sighs. "I didn't know I had a second cousin twice removed on my dad's side named Ruth. And yet? There she is, offering me marriage advice and shoving a cookbook into my hand. I'm not even sure the two things are related, but that's what she did."
Stan grins. "My sister is seven months pregnant. She looks like a blimp."
Kyle laughs. "You've been waiting to say that since you saw her, haven't you?"
Stan nods. "I can't believe they're making us stay separate until tomorrow."
"Miss me?"
Stan kisses him in answer, pressing their foreheads together as he pulls away.
"So much."
"Well...tomorrow, you get to have me forever."
Stan slides his fingers under Kyle's shirt and pulls him close. "I don't know how to sleep tonight."
"My suggestion would be with your eyes open, if Shelley's home."
Stan laughs, eyes falling shut. "Seriously. Last time we slept apart was when you had to pull that all-nighter before your finals junior year of med school. And if I hadn't been so tired from cramming for the bar exam, I wouldn't have been able to sleep then. We've been sleeping together since we were sixteen."
"I know," Kyle answers. He kisses Stan's forehead and pulls Stan even closer, until there's nothing between them except for their clothes. "It's just one night, though. And after tomorrow, we'll be married."
Stan nods. "Love you."
"I know. Come on. I'll walk you home."
Stan laughs but lets Kyle take his hand as they head back to his parents'. Kyle kisses him goodnight at the door waves at Stan's parents, and heads back to his own house.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I snuck out to see Kyle," Stan mutters in his parent's direction. "What else is new?"
Stan is woken up the next morning by his sister screaming in his general direction, "Stan, get your ass up! You have a visitor!"
He dares to hope it's Kyle, or at the very least Kenny and Butters, but when he finally makes it to the door, it's Cartman.
"What do you want, Cartman?" he sighs.
"I came to talk you out of this," Cartman says seriously. "It's not too late, you know. You haven't signed anything. You can still walk away and repent."
"What?"
"You can still come back to the light, Stan. Everyone makes mistakes—" He glances down and sees the necklace Kyle's mom gave him yesterday and pales. "No," he says, horrified. "No, not you, too! Why, Stan, why? Did he drug you? Were mushrooms involved? Was it bribery? Are you being threatened?"
"What?" Stan asks again because sometimes, it really is like Cartman is speaking his own language.
"Oh, Stan," Cartman says sadly. "You're lost to me. Depart from my presence."
"But—"
"I said depart!"
"This is my house."
"Oh. Right. I'm departing! I am!"
"Okay. Whatever. See ya."
"I hope all that buttsex is worth spending eternity in the lake of fire," Cartman sighs with an air of dramatics.
"Actually, Jews don't believe in—"
"Of course they don't. They don't even have souls, Stan!"
Stan shakes his head. "Okay. Whatever. Nice talking to you, Cartman."
"I need to report back to my followers," Cartman murmurs to himself. "They're gaining in numbers. Removing the souls of ordinary, good, Christian men. We must act."
He keeps muttering, but Stan just rolls his eyes and shuts the door before heading back upstairs to get changed.
Their rabbi back east walked them through what their wedding would be like, so they're both pretty prepared for that. Their parents walk them up the aisle and they stand under the chuppah as the ceremony takes place. It's different than the other weddings Stan has gone to in his life, but it's got a certain beauty to it that he can appreciate. And by the time it's over, he spots both his mom and Kyle's crying.
He doesn't really feel different as they head to the reception, though he guesses that might be nerves or numbness that will eventually wear off. It was like that with his conversion. He didn't feel any different for the entire first week, then they'd had Shabbat dinner and it had hit him all at once. He thinks this might be like that, too.
But the reception is joyous, full of laughter and music and dancing and it's very easy to lose himself in it, to just dance in Kyle's arms and have a good time.
Kyle spins him out, then pulls him back in, and catches him with his back to Kyle's chest, swaying with him from side to side to the beat.
"Uh-oh. Ike's coming over, and he's eyeing those chairs."
"It'll be fun."
"Just be careful you don't hit your head," Kyle cautions, then turns his attention to Ike and smiles. "Hey, Ike."
Ike hugs them both, just as they are, wrapping them both into one hug and squishing them together. "Sorry I didn't get to see you yesterday," he says to Stan. "I was with my girlfriend."
"Good for you," Stan says with a smile. "Who is she?"
Ike rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Okay, but before you get mad and hit me, you just married my brother."
"Uh, all right."
"Wendy."
Stan stares. "Testaburger?"
"Yeah. Don't hate me, okay?"
Stan shakes his head. "I don't hate you. I just wasn't expecting it. She's five years older than you."
"Which doesn't really matter as much as it used to now that I'm 21," Ike points out. "Anyway, I'm supposed to drag you two over so everyone can lift you up on chairs. It's traditional. Come on."
"What if I fall off?" Stan asks Kyle as Ike drags him along.
"My suggestion would be to hold on," Kyle says, laughing as they break into the center of the room and are put into chairs before being hoisted up.
Stan grabs Kyle's hand reflexively and holds onto the chair tightly with the other, making sure to keep his head down so he won't hit it on the ceiling.
Glancing around, he sees his parents, beaming happily at him, and Kyle's, looking so proud they might just explode. Ike is there with Wendy on his arm, looking happy, so good for them. In the very back of the room, Kenny and Butters are dancing slowly, spinning in a tight circle holding onto one another.
After that, the room begins to blur in a flurry of movement and the only thing that keeps him attached to reality is Kyle's hand, holding onto his tightly.
fin
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. 6,177 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.
"What's the matter, dude?" Kenny asks, his voice muffled by his parka. "Isn't Wendy coming back today?"
Stan nods. "She's coming over tonight after she gets settled back in."
"So shouldn't you be excited?" Kenny asks. "Or, you know, visibly alive?"
Stan pauses to take an inventory of his current situation. He's camped out on his parents' couch in the same pajamas he put on three days ago, there are cheetos stains on his shirt, he hasn't moved in at least three hours, and he's stolen two of his dad's beers, and that's just since his parents went to work three hours ago.
"I'm fine," Stan mutters.
"Dude, you've been acting weird for like...two and a half weeks. What the fuck happened?"
Stan shrugs and stares straight ahead. The Price is Right is on. Huh. When did they get a new host?
"Fuck, Stan. What small animal crawled up your ass and died?"
"Mr. Slave always said that wasn't an accurate metaphor for being upset and it kind of indicated the opposite..."
"Mr. Slave also dated Garrison," Kenny says, waving a hand absently. "You can't really go by what he thinks is good. Now what the fuck happened to you?"
Stan sighs. It's not really his secret to tell. Kyle probably wouldn't want Kenny knowing about what happened between them. But if he doesn't get it off his chest, Stan thinks he might explode.
"I hooked up with Kyle," he says quietly.
"Are you fucking insane?"
"Yes," Stan says firmly. No sense in lying. "Justin broke up with him and he turned out to be like, this really awful anti-Semetic douche and Kyle was upset and I ended up blowing him and then he realized I was in love with him and just...ugh. I spent the night with him. Twice. And I told him I was staying with Wendy and when he realized how hard it was going to be, he just...said it was over and it's been two and a half weeks and I can't stop thinking about him. And Wendy. How am I going to face Wendy? What do I say to her? How do I look her in the eye after what I've done? Ugh, Kenny, just kill me now."
"You can't come back afterwards," Kenny murmurs.
"Good."
"Trust me," Kenny says seriously. "Dying isn't fun."
"Neither is this. Fuck, I can't believe I did that."
Kenny sighs and settles himself on the floor, leaning back against the couch. "Can I ask you something?"
"I guess."
"Why are you going back to her? If you love Kyle...it just doesn't really make sense to me. Fucking other people, I can get that. Just sex. But it's not just sex with you and Kyle. So..." He shrugs. "Just explain it to me."
And that would pretty much be the moment Stan loses his shit and has to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands and bite his lip to keep from sobbing.
"Because it's expected of me," he says simply. "When you've been with someone since it was still weird to hold a girl's hand...I'm supposed to marry her and have kids with her. And I love her, Kenny. I do. That's not a lie."
"But you love Kyle, right? More than her?"
"Yeah."
"So then..."
"I'm not supposed to be with Kyle, I'm supposed to be with her. And if it was just that, maybe I could pick him. But I love her, too, so it's like...why would I give that up?"
Kenny turns to look him straight in the eye and tugs down his parka enough to remove the obstruction from his mouth so he can speak clearly. "Because he's Kyle, you idiot," he says, and then settles back into place.
"Yeah," Stan says softly. "I know."
"Idiot," Kenny repeats, but doesn't say another word.
When his parents get home from work, his dad forces him to shower ("You have to look nice for your lady, Stan. All men want to sit around on the couch eating cheetos and watching football all day, but that's why we have our women, all right?"), so he's more or less clean and human-shaped when Wendy shows up that afternoon.
"Stan!" she says happily, throwing her arms around his neck. "I've missed you." She hugs him tightly before adding, "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh."
"Hi, Wendy," his dad says, overlapping with his mother's, "Hello, dear."
"We're gonna go for a walk," Stan says. "I'll be back later, all right?"
His parents wave him off and he listens to Wendy's stories of third world countries and helping the poor until they reach the park and settle down on a bench.
"...and he shook my hand. It was so inspirational. Anyway, what did you do this summer?" she asks.
What's he supposed to say to that? Certainly not the truth. "I explored my sexuality by fucking around with a lot of guys," and "I realized I'm in love with someone else," are not good, "Welcome home, Wendy," messages.
Stan opens his mouth, shuts it again, and shakes his head without answering.
"Stan?" she asks. "Is something wrong?"
Yes. Everything. Thanks for asking.
"No," he says. "Tell me about meeting Bono while you were in Africa."
"Something's wrong," she says shrewdly. "You've barely looked at me, you wouldn't hold my hand when we were walking, and now you won't talk to me. Did something happen this summer?"
Maybe if she weren't looking at him with such open concern, he'd be able to shrug it off or lie to her, but fuck. He owes her honesty.
"I have to tell you something you're not going to like," he says, turning away from her so he doesn't have to see her eyes.
"What?"
"I...I started seeing someone over the summer while you were gone."
She sighs. "I figured you would. But I guess I should admit...I wasn't...I hooked up with a few of my fellow volunteers. I mean, after the sun went down, there wasn't much else to do, you know? And you put a bunch of teenagers together like that...it just happened. A lot. So...I understand. If you can forgive me, I forgive you."
"Guys," he says. "I hooked up with guys."
"And I hooked up with a few girls. And I forgive you if—"
"No, Wendy...I dated them. One of them."
"Well, there was a guy there that I—"
"No. I...fuck, Wendy, I'm so sorry. I fell for him."
She stares at him, concern quickly replaced by hurt in her eyes. "Oh."
"Kyle," he adds, though if he knows her, she's already figured that part out.
"Of course."
"Wendy, I'm so sorry. You know I love you. But..." He finds himself easily saying the words he never thought he could. They pour out of him like nothing at all and that should be scary, but it's slowly dawning on him that a lot of things that would be scary with other people just aren't when it comes to Kyle. "But I love him more," he says. "And it's not fair to you, him, or me to be with you when I feel this way. So I don't think we should be together anymore. I'm so sorry, Wendy. I really am."
She gasps, a small noise that's colored with tears. "Okay."
"If you hate me, I don't blame you."
"I don't hate you," she says. "Kyle's important to you. I get that."
"Wendy—"
She sighs. "I should get home. I'm tired. If you were wanting my blessing or something, you can have it. I need some time to deal with it, but...I just want you to be happy. So..." She shrugs. "I'll see you around, Stan."
She kisses him on the cheek before exiting the park, and he sits, stunned, for almost five minutes before he takes off at a run towards Kyle's house.
He rings the doorbell three times before Kyle's mother answers the door.
"Oh, hello, Stanley. We were just sitting down to dinner. There's plenty if you'd like to join us."
"I just need to talk to Kyle," he says. "Is he here?"
"No!" Ike shouts from the other room.
Mrs. Broflovski makes a face before stepping aside to let Stan in. "He's in the dining room," she says.
When he gets there, Ike is glaring daggers at him and Kyle looks miserable, while Kyle's dad just looks curious.
"Hey," Stan says. "Can I talk to you upstairs really fast?"
"No," Ike says.
Kyle shoots Ike a stay out of it look, but answers, "No," anyway.
"Please, I just need to talk to you."
"So talk," Kyle says, and slumps in his chair like someone just added a twenty-pound weight onto his shoulders.
Stan hesitates, glances at Kyle's parents, and shrugs. Kyle must know what he wants to say, right? He has to. And if he's fine with Stan saying it in front of his parents, then okay.
"I'm in love with you," he says, looking right into Kyle's eyes.
If Kyle's parents react to that, Stan doesn't hear him, though he can see Ike looking delighted out of the corner of his eye.
"What?"
"I'm in love with you," Stan says again. "Wendy came back today and I told her the truth and broke up with her. Because...I choose you, Kyle. And I'm so sorry for what I put you through. I should've done this weeks ago. Maybe a year ago. Before now, definitely. But you're the one I choose because I'm so completely in love with you that I just...what the hell was I thinking? Thinking that I could be with anyone else?"
Kyle stares at him before asking in a very numb voice, "Mom, may I please be excused from the table?"
Stan doesn't really hear her answer, but Kyle stands, grabs Stan's hand, and pulls him along roughly until they're outdoors before yelling, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Telling you I love you."
Kyle shoves his hands into his pockets and heads off up the street, so Stan follows him a few paces behind.
"How could you do that in front of my parents?"
"You said talk. I tried to get you to come outside."
"Stan...you don't get to jerk me around like this. You don't."
"I'm not jerking you around."
"Sure, you're not."
"Kyle, I ended it with her. I told her the truth."
"Stan..."
"You're pissed. I get it. But you still love me."
Kyle stops and stares at him for a long time before he finally admits, "Yeah."
"I want to be with you. For real this time."
"Stan..."
"Shh," Stan answers, and kisses him, right there on the street where anyone could see.
"What now?" Kyle asks.
"Remember when I said that the day we finally went all the way, it should be happy and special?"
"Yeah."
"This is that kind of day."
"We can't go back to my place," Kyle says. "They're not going to leave us alone in my bedroom together. And I can almost guarantee my mom's called yours to talk about what a shidduch we are."
"What?"
"Good match."
"Oh. Right. Yeah. She probably has. It might've been a good idea to tell my parents before I told yours, huh?"
Kyle nods. "So...what now?"
"Now you get your ass back in here and have dinner," Ike shouts from the doorway of Kyle's house. "It's a family dinner, you know."
"You want to?" Kyle asks, offering his hand.
Stan nods. "Sure. Might as well eat before my parents show up to yell at me for spending the night with you all those times."
Kyle's parents are really nice to him all through dinner, which feels so weird, but so good. He can't believe they're not angry or worried, but they're not. They just smile at him and treat him warmly and include him in conversation.
Of course, twenty minutes later, his parents show up and inform them that Stan spent the weekend with Kyle three weeks ago, but. Until then, things are good.
"Ike, bubbeleh," Kyle's mom says, "I think you should go on up to your room now so we can speak to Stan and Kyle alone."
Ike grumbles all the way up the stairs about how he should get to be there and it's not fair to send him to his room, but he goes anyway.
"Stan," his dad says firmly, "explain yourself."
"I..." Stan glances at Kyle, who shrugs, but holds his hand tighter. "I'm in love with Kyle. I should've told you guys that."
"I'm not talking about that, and you know it," his dad says. "That's fine. But you lied to us and stayed over here with Kyle for an entire weekend when his parents were gone, and I know teenagers think their parents are stupid, but we're not that stupid."
Stan steels himself before answering, "Yes. We were...doing what you think we were doing. But it's not like one of us is going to get pregnant or anything," he adds hastily. "And we love each other and you always told us growing up that that's what two people did when they were in love."
Okay. That one is technically true, but he's pushing it, and he knows it. Oh, well.
"Yeah. What he said," Kyle says to his own parents. They don't look quite as angry as Stan thinks his own do, but they're still not happy.
"We also told you to wait until you were old enough to make that kind of decision," his dad counters.
"Dad...it wasn't like that was my first time. I mean...I did have a girlfriend for eight years."
His dad stares. "You're not helping your point, Stan."
"I just meant...me and Kyle are old enough and mature enough to figure out if we're ready for that, and we are. And we'll be safe and neither of us can get pregnant, so you don't even have to worry about that. And um..."
"And we love each other," Kyle hisses under his breath.
"Right," Stan says. "And we love each other. Which is the important part. And you told us that having sex was a normal part of being in love."
"That's true," Kyle's dad says. "We did tell them that."
"Oh, don't tell me you're on their side," Stan's dad says.
"I'm not encouraging them to do it," Kyle's dad says with a shrug. "But they're teenagers, Randy. Don't you remember being a teenager? If they really want to, they're going to do it anyway."
"Then they should do it in the back of a car while looking around to make sure there aren't any cops driving by like we had to when we were their age."
"Well, what they're doing isn't exactly easy in the backseat of a car."
"Then—"
Stan's dad goes off on another argument as Kyle leans over and whispers into Stan's ear, "Are our dads really debating the plausibility of us fucking in a car?"
"I think so," Stan sighs. "Ugh."
"All right, all right," Mrs. Broflovski interrupts the two arguing dads. "Now listen. Sixteen is old enough to consent in Colorado. If the boys want to have sex, then they're going to have sex. End of story. And Gerald's right. It's really not fair to force them to hide it, especially since we already know about it. At least this way we can encourage them to be safe and smart about it."
It takes a lot more sputtering and a lot of rule-laying-down before Stan's dad reluctantly agrees that she has a point. He's still not happy about it, Stan knows, though underneath that, he can tell that it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he's dating a guy now, which is good. He had hopes that his parents would be all right with that part, and they are. And it's understandable that neither set of parents would be happy about their soon-to-be seventeen-year-olds are having sex. So it's fine. They're allowed to sleep over on non-school nights as long as they keep up with their schoolwork and no one else in the house has to hear whatever it is they're doing when they're alone together.
And Stan can live with that. He was hoping maybe they'd be allowed time alone together, but actually being able to spend the night? To sleep with Kyle like they did that first night? Yeah. He can absolutely live with that.
And finally they're allowed to head upstairs after a lot of apologizing to their parents and thanking them for being okay with this.
Kyle's all but dragging him towards the bedroom, but Stan stops outside of Ike's and says, "Go on. I need to talk to Ike real quick."
He knocks and waits for permission to enter and immediately says, "I'm sorry," as soon as Ike says it's okay to come in.
"It's okay."
"No," Stan says. "It's really not. And I'm sorry. You were right about pretty much everything."
"I know." Ike grins. "So what happened downstairs?"
"We're allowed to stay over as long as we're safe, don't start getting bad grades in school or do it on school nights, and stay quiet so no one can hear us," Stan says.
Ike grins. "Awesome."
"So we're cool?"
Ike hugs him tightly. "I can't wait for you to be my brother-in-law. And yeah, yeah, I'm jumping the gun again. Don't care. It's totally going to happen."
Stan laughs. "We'll see."
"You going to Kyle's room now?"
Stan nods.
"I don't think any guy in the history of the world has ever felt happier about his brother getting laid," Ike sighs. "Seriously. Go. Be happy. I'm glad."
Stan pats Ike on the back before telling him goodnight and heading down the hallway to Kyle's bedroom.
When he gets there, Kyle is already on the bed waiting for him and yeah. Kyle's waiting for him.
Stan doesn't even know how he makes it to the bed without falling over, but it's clearly some kind of miracle or sign that this is supposed to happen.
And Kyle...fuck. He's just as perfect as he's always been, hard already and waiting for Stan to touch him.
Kissing Kyle is like finding his way home again and he wants to touch every inch of his skin and map it out so he knows the way.
"Stan—" Kyle gasps when Stan tugs his shirt off and licks a circle around one of Kyle's nipples.
"Mm?"
"There's—fuck. There's lube and condoms in that drawer."
Stan nods. Later. He definitely will. But for now, this is good.
So he kisses his way down Kyle's chest and damn near breaks the zipper on Kyle's jeans in his haste to get them down.
He gets one lick up the vein on Kyle's cock before Kyle grabs him by the shoulders and flips them over.
"What—"
"I don't want to wait," Kyle says. "I'm sorry. But I've been waiting and waiting and I just...can't do it anymore. I need to see what this is like with you."
"Oh. Yeah."
Stan feels a little numb at how much Kyle wants him, but it's not like saying, 'No,' is any kind of option.
"Do you want me to bottom?" Kyle asks. "Or the other way? I don't care, Stan. I really don't. I just have to see."
And suddenly it hits Stan that he has a choice here. He'd been assuming the first time they did this, he'd fuck Kyle. Kyle said he would give Stan that, since he'd never done it before. But he still won't have done it tomorrow or next week or whenever it is that they do it that way, because the only person he wants to do it with is Kyle. So he knows what he wants and now all he has to do is ask for it.
"You on top," Stan says. "Is that okay? We can do it the other way soon, but...fine, you weren't technically the first, but you're the first one who counts."
Kyle kisses him even as he gropes blindly at the bedside table until he comes up with a bottle of lube.
"Fuck, Stan, are you sure?"
"You told me you'd have made it good for me. So now's your chance," Stan whispers. "Please. I trust you. I know you won't hurt me like he did."
Kyle nods solemnly, like he's making a very important promise, and pulls Stan's shirt off before moving down to his jeans and tugging those off as well.
Stan feels more exposed than usual having Kyle look at him like this, knowing what they're about to do, but...he's not scared. Kyle will do this the right way and Stan trusts that. And he trusts that if something did hurt, Kyle would stop and do something to make him feel better. Because like he told Kyle when he was considering breaking up with Justin, when you really love someone, you respect them and take care of them in bed. And Kyle really, really loves him.
"Just try to relax," Kyle cautions.
"Okay," Stan answers, and takes a deep calming breath as Kyle slips one finger into him.
"I'm gonna take care of you," Kyle says. "I promise. I'll make this as good as it should've been the first time."
"I know you will."
"I love you, you know that?"
"I know. I love you, too."
Kyle pushes a second finger in next to the first, very carefully and very slowly.
"You okay?"
Stan nods. "I'm fine. It doesn't start to hurt until the third finger, usually."
"I'll go slow, then."
The more and more Kyle stretches him, the more and more it hurts. It's not Kyle's fault and he gets used to it after a few minutes, but it still hurts every time Kyle slips another finger inside him.
"I'm sorry," Kyle says. "Please, relax."
"I am," Stan promises. "It's just...fuck. Just give me a minute and I'll be okay."
"You sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," Stan says firmly. "This is what two people do when they love each other."
"I know, but we can do it the other way. I'm more used to it than you are. And you had a bad experience last time, so that's bound to make you nervous—"
"Kyle. Please, just fuck me."
"Now?"
"No, next week. Yes, now."
"Stan, I can't. You're not ready. And if I do it now, it'll hurt. Which, I don't know. Maybe some day might be a little fun if you're into that. But not now, Stan. Please. Not when I'm trying to make love to you."
Stan freezes. "O—okay."
It takes another ten minutes before Kyle finally decides Stan is loose enough to be fucked, and it's ten minutes too long, Stan thinks. He gets it in the abstract, why Kyle needed to wait, but it doesn't change the fact that he wants Kyle as soon as possible.
"You okay doing it on your back?" Kyle asks when he finally slips his fingers free and rolls on a condom. "Or do you want to do it on your knees, or—"
"Like this. On my back."
Kyle nods and slicks his cock up before arranging Stan's legs over his shoulders.
"This might hurt," Kyle admits. "Just a little. But I promise once I'm inside, it starts to feel better."
"I trust you."
A little. Yeah. Right. More like oh my God, I can't breathe, this hurts, make it stop, please make it stop—oh.
The second Kyle slips inside him, the edge eases off the pain, though it still aches. But it's tolerable. It's just a dull ache in the back of his mind that he can live with if it means knowing Kyle is inside him.
Kyle's face twists in concentration as he carefully works himself inside, inch by inch, until finally, Stan feels Kyle's thighs against him.
"Fuck," Kyle breathes and kisses his calf. "Are you okay?"
It's roughly the ten thousandth time he's asked Stan that, but Stan doesn't care. Kyle is type of guy who is genuinely interested in the answer every single time and it's just one of the many, many reasons Stan is in love with him.
"Yeah. I'm...okay."
"Do you want me to stop?"
"Don't you dare."
Kyle laughs and kisses him, breathless and lazy. "You are just so..."
"Tight?"
"I was going to say amazing but, yeah. That, too."
Stan grins, a little embarrassed, but also just...really, really happy.
"Can you—"
"Hmm?"
"Can you just fuck me now?"
Kyle blinks at him and laughs again. "Yeah. I can do that."
It feels so much better than his first time did, the perfect slide of Kyle inside him, the way Kyle kisses him stupid as his cock takes care of what little brain function the kissing didn't knock out. And he can't breathe or think or do anything except beg Kyle for more.
"Stan?"
"Yeah?"
"Touch yourself, okay?"
"What?"
"Jerk yourself off. I want you to come while I'm fucking you."
Stan groans and grabs the bottle of lube, slicks his palm, and wraps it around his cock. He groans at the contact and Kyle traces the shell of his ear with his tongue before whispering, "I want to see you fall apart, Stan. Want you to come all over yourself with me inside you. Want you to—"
Whatever else Kyle might want him to do, Stan never finds out because the sound of his own gasps and moans and Kyle, Kyle, Kyles drowns him out.
And he just keeps coming. Long after his cock has stopped twitching, his entire body shakes as Kyle moves within him, setting his over-sensitive nerves on fire.
And when Kyle comes...fuck. It's possibly one of the best moments of Stan's life, just laying there, watching Kyle's face as he comes inside of Stan.
And then he's laying more on top of Stan than off, still inside him, and Stan has his arms around Kyle, keeping him in place.
"So," Stan says quietly. "How was it?"
Kyle laughs and rolls off of him, leaving him feeling empty inside.
"It was perfect," Kyle says, sighing contentedly.
"It wasn't perfect," Stan says fairly.
Kyle shrugs. "Room for improvement. For a first time? Yeah. It was perfect."
"You just wait 'til that orgasm wears off. You'll be critiquing my performance."
"Nope. 'Cause you know what, Stan? I love you just the way you are."
"Are you going to give a gay little speech now?"
"Maybe."
"Don't," Stan answers. "I get it. I love you just the way you are, too."
"Ten to one says my mom has bought you some kind of Star of David necklace," Kyle murmurs as they step out of the plane and head up the walkway into the airport.
Stan grins. "I'm surprised she didn't fly out for my hatafat dam brit."
"I think the only reason she didn't was because she knew she wouldn't be allowed in the room."
Kyle laughs. "Yeah. You're probably right. Wait, did you remember to pack your conversion certificate to show to the rabbi here?"
"Mhm," Stan answers. "It's in our suitcase. Chill out, man. Your mom's thrown this whole thing together. All we have to do is show up and sign the ketubah."
"I wish it were that simple," Kyle laments. "She'll probably want to throw you a conversion party. And then there's the wedding, after which is another party."
"What's wrong with partying?"
"When I have to be back on the east coast by Monday to start my internship? A lot."
Stan shrugs and pulls Kyle along into the airport. Their families are there, waiting and happy. They both get wrapped up in crushing hugs by their mothers before being handed off as Kyle's mom squishes Stan tightly.
Finally, they're released from their mothers' grips, and as predicted, Kyle's mom holds a small box out to Stan and says, "Stanley, bubbeleh, a gift for you."
He opens it and acts surprised, thanking her before slipping it around his neck and following them out to pick up their bags.
After that, he loses track of what's happening until he realizes he's in the back of his parents' car and Kyle isn't.
"Hey, what's—"
"It's your wedding night," his dad says. "You're not supposed to see the groom before the wedding."
"Dad, we've been together for ten years and we've lived together for eight. The groom has effectively been seen."
"Still. It's tradition."
"But my clothes are in that suitcase. We only packed the one."
"Don't worry about it. We'll take care of it."
"But—"
"Oh, let us parents have our fun," his mom says. "At least let us pretend."
Stan rolls his eyes. "But—"
"It's just one night."
Stan sighs. He doesn't want to sleep alone. He's not even sure he can. He's only done that a handful of times since they left for college, when Kyle had to pull all-nighters for med school.
He sighs, slumping against the seat. "Fine. I guess the answer is yes, but everything's taken care of for the wedding tomorrow, right?"
"Of course. Caterers called, flowers bought, invitations sent. Everyone RSVPed except Eric Cartman."
"He didn't RSVP?"
His mom bites her lip before admitting, "He sent back a letter detailing why his soul would be burned right out of his body if he stepped foot in a synagogue or on otherwise Jewish ground. I called his mother and threw it out."
Stan rolls his eyes. Of course Cartman still lives with his mom. And of course he won't come to their wedding. He's Cartman.
"Did Shelley already come in?"
"Yeah. You might want to be extra-nice to her, though. She's in her seventh month and she's started to get cranky."
Stan groans. Why couldn't he and Kyle have just stayed in a hotel? Why?
He manages to keep his mouth shut through dinner and consequently avoids being thrown into a wall by his pregnant sister or by his brother-in-law, Keith, on her orders.
He even manages to make polite small talk with his parents until finally he spots a chance to sneak out and starts heading for Stark's Pond.
He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and texts Kyle, asking him to meet him there.
Finally, twenty minutes later, Kyle arrives, looking harried.
"My house is full of obscure relatives," Kyle sighs. "I didn't know I had a second cousin twice removed on my dad's side named Ruth. And yet? There she is, offering me marriage advice and shoving a cookbook into my hand. I'm not even sure the two things are related, but that's what she did."
Stan grins. "My sister is seven months pregnant. She looks like a blimp."
Kyle laughs. "You've been waiting to say that since you saw her, haven't you?"
Stan nods. "I can't believe they're making us stay separate until tomorrow."
"Miss me?"
Stan kisses him in answer, pressing their foreheads together as he pulls away.
"So much."
"Well...tomorrow, you get to have me forever."
Stan slides his fingers under Kyle's shirt and pulls him close. "I don't know how to sleep tonight."
"My suggestion would be with your eyes open, if Shelley's home."
Stan laughs, eyes falling shut. "Seriously. Last time we slept apart was when you had to pull that all-nighter before your finals junior year of med school. And if I hadn't been so tired from cramming for the bar exam, I wouldn't have been able to sleep then. We've been sleeping together since we were sixteen."
"I know," Kyle answers. He kisses Stan's forehead and pulls Stan even closer, until there's nothing between them except for their clothes. "It's just one night, though. And after tomorrow, we'll be married."
Stan nods. "Love you."
"I know. Come on. I'll walk you home."
Stan laughs but lets Kyle take his hand as they head back to his parents'. Kyle kisses him goodnight at the door waves at Stan's parents, and heads back to his own house.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I snuck out to see Kyle," Stan mutters in his parent's direction. "What else is new?"
Stan is woken up the next morning by his sister screaming in his general direction, "Stan, get your ass up! You have a visitor!"
He dares to hope it's Kyle, or at the very least Kenny and Butters, but when he finally makes it to the door, it's Cartman.
"What do you want, Cartman?" he sighs.
"I came to talk you out of this," Cartman says seriously. "It's not too late, you know. You haven't signed anything. You can still walk away and repent."
"What?"
"You can still come back to the light, Stan. Everyone makes mistakes—" He glances down and sees the necklace Kyle's mom gave him yesterday and pales. "No," he says, horrified. "No, not you, too! Why, Stan, why? Did he drug you? Were mushrooms involved? Was it bribery? Are you being threatened?"
"What?" Stan asks again because sometimes, it really is like Cartman is speaking his own language.
"Oh, Stan," Cartman says sadly. "You're lost to me. Depart from my presence."
"But—"
"I said depart!"
"This is my house."
"Oh. Right. I'm departing! I am!"
"Okay. Whatever. See ya."
"I hope all that buttsex is worth spending eternity in the lake of fire," Cartman sighs with an air of dramatics.
"Actually, Jews don't believe in—"
"Of course they don't. They don't even have souls, Stan!"
Stan shakes his head. "Okay. Whatever. Nice talking to you, Cartman."
"I need to report back to my followers," Cartman murmurs to himself. "They're gaining in numbers. Removing the souls of ordinary, good, Christian men. We must act."
He keeps muttering, but Stan just rolls his eyes and shuts the door before heading back upstairs to get changed.
Their rabbi back east walked them through what their wedding would be like, so they're both pretty prepared for that. Their parents walk them up the aisle and they stand under the chuppah as the ceremony takes place. It's different than the other weddings Stan has gone to in his life, but it's got a certain beauty to it that he can appreciate. And by the time it's over, he spots both his mom and Kyle's crying.
He doesn't really feel different as they head to the reception, though he guesses that might be nerves or numbness that will eventually wear off. It was like that with his conversion. He didn't feel any different for the entire first week, then they'd had Shabbat dinner and it had hit him all at once. He thinks this might be like that, too.
But the reception is joyous, full of laughter and music and dancing and it's very easy to lose himself in it, to just dance in Kyle's arms and have a good time.
Kyle spins him out, then pulls him back in, and catches him with his back to Kyle's chest, swaying with him from side to side to the beat.
"Uh-oh. Ike's coming over, and he's eyeing those chairs."
"It'll be fun."
"Just be careful you don't hit your head," Kyle cautions, then turns his attention to Ike and smiles. "Hey, Ike."
Ike hugs them both, just as they are, wrapping them both into one hug and squishing them together. "Sorry I didn't get to see you yesterday," he says to Stan. "I was with my girlfriend."
"Good for you," Stan says with a smile. "Who is she?"
Ike rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Okay, but before you get mad and hit me, you just married my brother."
"Uh, all right."
"Wendy."
Stan stares. "Testaburger?"
"Yeah. Don't hate me, okay?"
Stan shakes his head. "I don't hate you. I just wasn't expecting it. She's five years older than you."
"Which doesn't really matter as much as it used to now that I'm 21," Ike points out. "Anyway, I'm supposed to drag you two over so everyone can lift you up on chairs. It's traditional. Come on."
"What if I fall off?" Stan asks Kyle as Ike drags him along.
"My suggestion would be to hold on," Kyle says, laughing as they break into the center of the room and are put into chairs before being hoisted up.
Stan grabs Kyle's hand reflexively and holds onto the chair tightly with the other, making sure to keep his head down so he won't hit it on the ceiling.
Glancing around, he sees his parents, beaming happily at him, and Kyle's, looking so proud they might just explode. Ike is there with Wendy on his arm, looking happy, so good for them. In the very back of the room, Kenny and Butters are dancing slowly, spinning in a tight circle holding onto one another.
After that, the room begins to blur in a flurry of movement and the only thing that keeps him attached to reality is Kyle's hand, holding onto his tightly.
fin
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Date: 2009-04-27 07:16 am (UTC)