Oh. My. Gawd. The "You're Getting Old" episode has Fucked. Me. Up. My precious boys, what is to become of you! Granted that was a super funny episode, it still left me feeling a little sick. Then I had South Park nightmares. I'm such a dork.

Then my husband took a week off of work for vacation. I have to say, him being around is not conducive to writing slash. lol

Summary: Stan's thrown off balance when he accidentally comes out to his parents. Meanwhile, Kyle's parents just wish he'd show interest in anyone.

Note: This story is about Stan and Kyle. They are the focus so I will not spend as much time with other characters.

Rated:T for swearing and extreme sensuality. This chapter is borderline M. I will not change the rating to M, though. If I do include M rated stuff I will clearly label it at the beginning of the chapter. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or its characters. Matt and Tray do, God bless them. I make no money, it's all just for fun.

Warning: Contains slash. You have been warned.

By the end of practice Kyle was visibly limping again. Stan could tell that the smaller boy was trying to hide his discomfort, but the barely there grimace and the hint of favoring his uninjured foot gave him away. It made Stan felt like shit. Knowing that Kyle was hiding it to spare his worry made him feel a little lower than shit.

As the team jogged to the locker room after practice Stan held back to walk with his limping…boyfriend. That particular thought caused his heart to race at an uncomfortable pace. He pulled his hands up to rest on the top of his head in a practiced manner as he walked next to the redhead. It was one of the first things they had been taught when first entering any sports team. Hands on the head keeps the blood flowing at a healthy rate.

Stan risked a worried sideways glance. Kyle was doing the half grimace thing again and obviously trying to walk on his bruised foot. "You okay?" he slipped into the silence. The grimace turned into a scowl.

"Peachy," Kyle ground out. Great, he was pissed off again. Stan wished his emotions were stable enough to be frustrated with the boy, but he was still wallowing in euphoria. He probably would be for a while. "What'dya do to your hand?"

The question brought him back. He looked down to his wrapped hand and he shrugged. "I punched a wall," he said, realizing as soon as the words left his mouth how stupid that sounded. He wondered if he should be happy that Kyle showed concern or pissed that he just now noticed. Well, it had been an intense sort of day. The boy beside him snorted.

"You are such a retard."

"Who's the bigger retard; the retard or the retard dating the retard?" Yep, Stan went there. He held his breath, waiting for a sign of discomfort or regret.

"Touché."

The taller boy visibly exhaled as the pair finally entered the locker room. Boys were wondering around in various states of undress, some showering, some packing up to go home already. Stan sidestepped a naked Tolken and made his way to his locker before the limping Kyle. He opened both his and his friend's next to his and grabbed his school clothes.

"We showering before I take you home?" Stan asked as the smaller boy finally appeared at his side. A ginger eyebrow arched.

"Dude, I'm grounded. You can't come home with me."

Stan huffed, "I know, midget. But I'm not letting you walk home by yourself on that foot. I'm kinda responsible for that." He was afraid of his self-control if Kyle said what he thought he was going to say in reply.

"Dude, it's not that bad."

Yep. That. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just shut up." He slammed his locker door closed and began stripping. No shower today. He would just go home and do it. He could relieve frustration that way. When he was done he looked over to see a shirtless Kyle sitting on the bench trying to gingerly extract his shoes so he could change into his pants. His cheeks were steadily tinting. Stan started to wonder if he was wrong about it just being bruised. Without thought he dipped down and swatted the other boy's hands away. "You're going to make it worse," he griped.

He ignored Kyle's mumbling complaints as he completely loosened the laces of the boy's cleats before gently removing the shoe, then the sock. His foot was violently purple and swelling now. The boys stared accusingly at each other. Stan poked the foot. "Ow, fuck you dickhole!" Kyle yelled.

"I'm walking home with you." It was not a question or suggestion. If Kyle said no it would make no difference. He would walk next to him anyway. It was a free country. He could walk wherever he wanted. He grabbed the bottom of Kyle's shorts and yanked. An outraged screech was muffled when he threw Kyle's pants at his face.

Ten minutes later they were exiting the school grounds and turning down the road in stony silence. Stan had offered to carry Kyle's messenger bag, but the boy had refused. The thumping sound it made every time it swung and made contact with Kyle's hip because he was limping so bad pissed Stan off a little more each time he heard the offending noise.

Twenty-four thumps sounded before Stan whirled angrily around to his…boyfriend. "For Christ's sake, stop being such a prissy bitch and give me that goddamn bag!" he yelled, grabbing the strap and yanking it off the other boy's shoulder. Kyle glared at him as he jerked the strap over his dark head, turned, and continued walking.

Now the walk was no less stony, but much quieter. It calmed Stan somewhat. Now he could think. He wanted to get Kyle out of his bad mood and he didn't have long to do it. "You still mad at me for tripping you?" he asked.

Kyle huffed. "No, but I am pissed that you're over-reacting again. Just cause' I'm littler than you doesn't mean you have to protect me." Sharp green eyes glared up into Stan's as if searching for a response, "I'm not a girl."

Stan snorted, "No shit." He could feel his cheeks warm up and he grinned. Kyle relaxed and grinned back. "But you know," Stan continued, "Wendy definitely does not need my protection."

Kyle shrugged. "Yeah, that was kinda an assholeish thing of me to say, but you know what I mean."

Stan did know. The problem was that he was going to be dramatic and over-reactive no matter what. It was just the way he was. He thought about the multiple times Kyle had been in the hospital. Those were never good times. He didn't like hospitals in the best of times, when Kyle was there it was just worse.

Kyle's house loomed near now, they were on his street. "You think we should tell everyone we're dating tomorrow?" he finally asked. He was tired of fighting the same old fight and really wanted talk about all this new shit. The awesome shit.

"Nah," Kyle replied, making Stan's heart drop before continuing, "No one announces that they're dating. People'll figure it out. People always do."

Stan thought about it. It was true. You always knew who was dating by seeing them…and gossip. Stan knew he could get some gossip started. Eric was on the school newspaper staff and they had a class together.

They stopped in front of Kyle's house. Stan took the bag from his shoulder and carefully placed it back over Kyle's head. "This is as far as I dare go. Your mother is a scary woman," he smiled as he adjusted the strap, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Wait here and I'll drive you. We need to make sure you can play Friday."

Kyle was looking down at his bag and fiddling with the strap himself. "…Yeah," he mumbled before looking up at Stan, who was already straightening back up and ready to walk home himself. "Hey Stan?" The taller boy looked over expectantly. He wondered what Kyle wanted. They wouldn't even be able to talk until tomorrow. To his surprise Kyle yanked his sleeve and brought him back down to his level, kissing him on the cheek.

Stan felt his eyes widen in surprise, but couldn't help grinning like a fool at his…boyfriend. Kyle looked flustered and adorable, cheeks pink and eyes darting towards the windows of his house. "Well, see you tomorrow," he muttered and practically ran to the door in a wobbly hobble, slamming the door shut behind him.

Stan's shit-eating grin remained as he locked his hands behind his head and began walking towards his own house.

"Hey Stan! What's got you so happy?"

Stan turned towards the voice and calmed his grin a little. He probably looked like a complete dork. "Hey Kenny!" he called back as his friend jogged up next to him, "Bit of new shit's going down…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle's chest heaved as he drug himself down the door to his bedroom. Fuck this dating shit was hard. No wonder he had steered clear so far. How could Stan function for so long with dating Wendy?

His heart was hammering and his breath was ragged and uneven. He couldn't seem to stop blushing like a total fag and his palms felt a little sweaty in his gloves. He'd only kissed the guy on the cheek for fuck's sake. Maybe it was good that he was grounded. It would give him time to acclimate to his new condition.

Great, now it sounded like he had a disease. Sorry mom, I have the Gay for my Best Friend. I think I need to stay home from school tomorrow. Wouldn't want it to spread…Sure.

Kyle wanted to be hateful and pissed off at Stan for even starting this. He could have just glided along in oblivious ignorance forever if Stan hadn't fucking kissed him Saturday. But the crazy thing about it was Kyle wasn't pissed off. Anxious, yes, pissed off, no. Kissing Stan felt really good. It made him feel almost high.

The truth of the matter was that he was way out of his league. He didn't know anything about dating and romance. Especially with a guy. Hell, the one girl he had tried to romance turned into a major slut. Stan wasn't a slut. Kyle was pretty sure his, erm, boyfriend hadn't ever even had sex with Wendy even though they had been together basically forever. He was pretty sure Stan would have told him if he had. Still, it seemed prudent to ask.

And then he realized he was thinking about Stan having sex and his face caught on fire. He'd been dating the guy for like an hour and he was already thinking about stuff like that? Was that normal? Was he a pervert? He needed to do some research.

Two hours later he was hyperventilating. A simple Google search had told him everything from how homosexuality was a sin of god and that he would burn in hell forever to scientific studies of its existence in nature to statistics and people finding websites. It was all a mess. So he had narrowed down the search to dating procedures. It had been less than helpful as well. And there was nothing on how to date your best friend. Then he had Googled sex. He had reasoned that it probably would be a good idea to know details; there had to be more to it than simply 'insert into ass'.

And now he was hyperventilating. What was wrong with these people? How had he ended up on a porn website? A hardcore porn website. He clicked off completely and wiped his face on his sleeve. He would just have to follow Stan's lead and sex was out.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ah don't touch me!" he shrieked, then saw it was Ike. Ike was giving him a look.

"There's a girl here for you," his Canadian brother said, "Didn't know you even knew girls…" The tween turned to leave.

Kyle was about to quip back an insult, but his brother's news sank in. "Wait, I'm grounded. I thought I wasn't allowed to have people over?" he asked irritably, standing to follow his brother. Ike shrugged.

"Mom said you just couldn't have Stan over," Ike turned back, causing Kyle to nearly collide with him, "What did you do? She wouldn't tell me."

Fuck if he was going to tell his little brother. Especially if his mom hadn't told. "Nothing for you to know, now go on. I don't even know who could be here for me."

Kyle was surprised to see Wendy waiting patiently for him in the living room. He pushed his glasses up his face and greeted her with a suspicious look. Her arms were full of books and videos and paper. "I thought since Stan won't be bothering us for a while we could just work our asses off and finish our project this week," her feminine voice suggested. She put the stuff down on the coffee table and tucked a long strand of dark hair behind her ear. "You know, have it ready for next Friday and not have to worry."

Seemed logical, if not a little suspicious. Wendy never visited him at his house. Their friendship was entirely based around Stan and when they rarely had to work together in school she always demanded that they go somewhere public. He voiced his concern, "Why did you come over?"

Wendy gave him an exasperated glance. "You're grounded, dummy. I figured you couldn't go anywhere." Kyle bristled at her insult. It was okay when Stan called him dumb. He knew Stan didn't really mean it. But Wendy…

She did have a point, though. And it would keep the agonizing boredom at bay. It probably wouldn't hurt for his parents to see him interacting with others, especially girls, anyway. "Okay, where do you want to start?"

A predatory glint came to the young woman's dark eyes. "The kiss scene definitely. It's the most important and will be the most dramatic in class."

Ugh.

He had been worried that they were going to have to practice, but instead the two stayed up late into the evening watching different versions on film and reading analyzations of the scene in books Wendy had brought and taking notes. It was a small miracle that Wendy didn't suggest practicing it. When she finally left Kyle took a long overdue shower and went to his room to go to bed. He'd do his calculus homework during lunch tomorrow.

There was a note taped to his window from the outside.

Did you know that FDR was a

helluva poker player? I bet you

could give him a run for his money,

though. You still surprise me in

so many ways.

Kyle did, in fact, know this fact about FDR. What he did not know was why Stan had taken the time to scribble this on an index card and tape it to his bedroom window. He walked over to his window and opened it. There was a dandelion on the sill, too. It had to be one of the first of the season.

"Fag," Kyle muttered with a shy smile, taking the flower and note and setting them by his bed, then returned to the window to close it again. The nights were still too cold to keep them open. He put his glasses on the table, making sure not to crowd the other two objects before turning the light off to go to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Tuesday's note read:

Swans mate for life. Like soul

mates or something. Do you think

people can be like that? Like stick

together their whole lives? No

matter what…

XXXXXXXXXX

Wednesday's said:

I read that colors can be symbolic

and used in psychology. Green

symbolizes durability, optimism,

and honesty. Blue symbolizes

peace, loyalty, and honor. Can

you imagine what those two colors

together could be? Sometimes I

think I can.

XXXXXXXXXX

Thursday it was:

If you walk 20 miles a day it would

take six months to walk across the

country. No sweat…if you were

waiting for me.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan had been looking forward to homecoming ever since he had learned the date. It always made him feel manly to walk proudly out onto the field at halftime, always sweaty and covered in mud, with Wendy looking like a princess or a bride on his arm. There was just something about the juxtaposition of their appearances that turned him on.

Tonight, however, he just felt like this week, this moment, would never be over. He felt unstable and jittery. They were winning my such a large margin that most of the spectators from the other team had already gone home. It was almost a shame. There would be no close calls or last minute power plays. No, the South Park Bulls were just gliding along until the time ran out. Stan should have been pumping himself up for the homecoming event and proud of their lead.

Instead he just kept glancing over at his boyfriend. Kyle was trying to clean himself up a little before walking out with Bebe. They had been dating for almost a week and he felt like he was stagnating. When he had talked to Kenny on Monday his friend had warned him about being too forward. He had also been warned that he couldn't treat the new relationship like he had with Wendy. This was, Kenny had said, totally different.

Right.

So Stan had spent the week not being forward, whatever the hell that meant, and treating the relationship as if he were with, well, Kyle. Needless to say not much changed. They did hold hands when they walked to school together. Kyle's foot had completely healed by Wednesday. Though it still looked terrible, even tonight, it didn't hurt him at all. It had been a decent week. It proved that nothing terrible had changed between them.

It also hadn't been enough in Stan's opinion. He couldn't help leaving the notes on Kyle's window in the evenings. He would have texted him, but that was out and he had to do something. He was a romantic at heart. He needed an outlet. Kyle never mentioned the notes. He wasn't sure if he was glad about that or not. On the one hand he didn't receive recognition, but on the other they obviously didn't bother Kyle.

What did bother Stan was that Wendy had been to Kyle's house every day that week. Coincidence? He didn't think so. Wendy had been way too pleasant to the two of them. And that was what was bothering him right now. He was about to escort his ex-girlfriend for homecoming while the object of his undying devotion escorted an equally beautiful girl. They would be introduced together and judged as couples. And Wendy was up to something.

But now it was time to walk the walk.

The couples converged and lined up in their appropriate positions. Kyle and Bebe were first. Kyle, being the shortest person on the team, always stood at the outside of a line-up. It kept his height from being so noticeable. Bebe wasn't much taller than him, and Stan noticed that she wore a dazzling ball gown that accentuated both her curvy form and Kyle's dazzling eyes. It probably wasn't something everyone would notice, but Stan did. And Bebe was obviously paying enough attention to Kyle to get a dress that matched his eyes.

It didn't help that her long golden hair clung elegantly to her bare back and her blue eyes sparkled when Kyle greeted her like a gentleman. Stan growled when she leaned over with a smile and whispered something in his boyfriend's ear that made him blush beautifully. He decided to look away before he broke his moral code and went and punched her in the face.

His eyes turned to Wendy. She was the opposite of Bebe with huge dark eyes and a messy up-do. Her midnight gown clung to every curve and the thin straps holding the dress up made her skin shockingly pale in comparison. Stan's mouth went dry and he decided that looking forward was best. How had he been looking forward to this?

When the first couple's names were called he couldn't help but see Bebe's gentle smack to Kyle's ass to get the boy going. Stan bit his tongue to keep from yelling curses at her. He grudgingly had to give her credit for balls, but the rage fuelled him through the entire announcements and ceremony.

He and Wendy won. They usually did, and Wendy planted a friendly kiss to his cheek when they did. It was the same side as Kyle's kiss had been Monday and it burned. Stan had to keep himself from flinching. It was actually kind of embarrassing. It wasn't like he was disgusted by her. Quite the opposite. But he didn't trust her. Never had and probably never would.

It wasn't until the game was over that he actually began to relax. Tomorrow was Saturday. Kyle wouldn't be grounded anymore. Maybe they could go on their first date. It was overdue.

They were both showered and dressing before he could work up the nerve to ask. "So…" he drawled, waiting on Kyle to get his shirt over his head, "your sentence is up tomorrow?"

Popping his head through his shirt, Kyle nodded idly, "Yeah, you comin' over in the morning?"

Stan wasn't sure if Kyle made everything way easier or way harder. "Yeah if you want me…"

Kyle stood up from tying his shoes, standing a bit taller than Stan's height sitting. It was odd to look up at Kyle. "Yeah," he breathed, "I do."

Yep. Kyle was definitely making things harder right now. Stan wanted to jump him right there. Instead he nodded dumbly and quickly averted his eyes to his own shoelaces. "I'll uh," he cleared his throat. It sounded too gravelly. "I'll be there in the morning then. You better warn your mom. And make something to eat like a good wife," he joked. He got punched in the arm.

"Fuck you."

Breath in. Breath out. Stan worked up a smirk and looked up from his shoes. "Whatever you want, darlin'." He winked.

Kyle blushed and turned away, waving an arm over his head as he practically sprinted to the door. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, fag."

Stan laughed at his boyfriend's retreating back, and it felt like all the anxiety from the past week was melting away. Until he remembered he was going out to eat with some of the team and the girls. He sighed. The night wasn't over yet.

He really just wanted it to be tomorrow.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle was surprised when he woke up late Saturday morning. Sure, he had stayed up pretty late doing all of his homework for the next week so that his mom wouldn't have any excuse to disallow Stan's visit. He had also had trouble actually going to sleep when he focused on Stan's parting comment from last night.

He knew Stan was joking, but the comment had elicited several mixed emotions within him. Anxiety and excitement being two. He didn't think he would survive sex with Stan, but fuck did he want to crawl all over him at the same time. He had actually calmed down significantly over the week when it became obvious that Stan wouldn't demand anything from him that he wasn't ready to give.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned over to see the clock. It glared angrily at him. 10:19 am. He jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom in a panic where he pissed, brushed his teeth, and washed his face in record time. Stan was going to be pissed. The guy had been practically antsy all week and now he probably thought Kyle was blowing him off on their first day together outside of school. Stan was such a drama queen.

Kyle returned to his bedroom to throw some pajama pants on. He wouldn't have his cell phone until his mom woke up. He ran down the stairs to use the phone in the kitchen.

Stan was watching Terrance and Phillip in the living room. He turned when he heard Kyle stomping down the stairs. "Morning, dude," he waved, palming a familiar device, "You can use this instead of using the kitchen phone to call me and beg for mercy."

Kyle snatched his phone from the other boy's hand when he came near. He would have wanted to punch him if he hadn't been so relieved to see Stan. "How did you get this?" he asked instead, plopping down next to him on the couch. Terrance and Phillip were laughing manically from the TV.

Stan shrugged. "Your mom gave it to me when she went out. She told me I could stay if I waited down here for you." At this the dark headed boy looked through his bangs around the room, as if looking for anyone who might be listening to their conversation before leaning in towards Kyle in a conspiratory fashion. "I think your mom is afraid I'll rape you or something," he mock whispered.

Kyle snorted. That seemed very Sheila Broflovski. Telling a person to wait downstairs so that they couldn't attack him in his sleep, then going out with a promise that they wouldn't. At least it was Stan so it would be okay if…

No. It wouldn't.

"I wanna show you something," he blurted. He didn't want to think about too much too fast and he really wanted to get out of the house. It had been a week after all. And school so didn't count. "I was gonna show you last Saturday, but it rained. Have you eaten?"

Stan shook his head reluctantly. He looked intrigued and didn't seem to want to waste time with breakfast. Well tough. Kyle was hungry. They both ate a bowl of cereal, Kyle deflecting all questions with practiced ease and suffering through the whining, before he ran upstairs to put real clothes on. He returned shortly in jeans and an old dark green t-shirt.

Both boys put their boots on and snuck out the door. They could hear Ike waking up upstairs and didn't want to risk him tagging along. Once they were safely out of ear shot Stan's questions started back up with a vengeance.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Why are we going into the woods. There's s-snakes in the woods."

"Don't worry princess, I'll protect you."

"Fuck you. I thought you wanted to show me something."

"I do. Jesus, hurry up."

"Slow down douche bag, your tiny body can move faster through the woods."

"Shut the fuck up. We're almost there."

And not a moment too soon. One more comment and Kyle was going to sock his boyfriend. He did the gentlemanly thing and held the last of the braches out of the taller boy's way. As soon as he stumbled through Stan straightened up and his jaw dropped.

The two looked at the cave face; one with pride, the other in shock. "What is this?" Stan asked as he peered at the old couch on one side of the interior.

"Me and Kenny have named it The Bachelor Pad. The couch was from his bedroom. We found the rug rolled up in his back yard, oh, and the crate holding the radio, too. I got the radio from my basement. It runs on batteries. There's an old generator in the basement, too, but it's broken. Me and Kenny thought you might be able to take a look at it. If you fix it we might be able to get a TV up here during the summer." Kyle finally took a breath and let the other boy take everything in.

Stan just stood and gaped. "This is freakin' amazing dude!" he said, back turned to the redhead. "Just one problem…"

Kyle's brows furrowed. What was wrong with it? "What?"

Stan turned, grinning. "We're not bachelors."

Kyle felt his heart start back up and rage fill his veins. He picked up a rock and threw it at the other boy. "Fuck you. I thought you didn't like it!"

Stan rubbed his chest where the rock had met its mark, but much to Kyle's dismay he didn't look very remorseful. In fact, his grin just widened. The grin froze Kyle in place as the taller boy sauntered over to him. First Stan took his hand, then pulled him in by his arm, and finally enveloped him in his arms. Kyle's head fell just below Stan's head and he could hear the strong heartbeat.

One of the arms around him loosened its grasp enough to pull him away just enough to let him meet Stan's eyes. "I love it," the dark headed boy whispered intensely. Kyle wondered if this was how deer felt when they looked into headlights. Then the moment seemed to be over. Stan let him go, both physically and with his bright blue eyes. "So you gonna give me the grand tour or what?" he asked.

Kyle nodded even though Stan wasn't looking at him anymore. He watched the other boy as he planted himself onto the old couch, sprawling his long legs across the carpet. His jeans were an old pair that had torn many times and Kyle could barely look away from the skin beneath the holes. He carefully sat down beside him, not close enough to force physical contact, but still close enough to allow its potential.

"Well," he began, testing his voice, "there's not much to tell. Me and Kenny found it a couple weeks ago and decided to bring some stuff up here. We just finished it last weekend and I was gonna show you, but it rained."

Stan nodded, looking around more fully from the comfort of the aging couch. "And the radio works?" he asked when his eyes finally fell upon the device.

Kyle nodded, then noticed that Stan wasn't looking at him again. "Yeah, but it doesn't pick up any good rap stations," he explained with a pout, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Stan smirked again and returned his attention to Kyle. "What a fuckin' shame," he grinned.

Kyle bristled. Stan may not enjoy all of the finer details of a good dirty rap song, but he did. There was something deep and spiritual about the strong beat and chanting words. And he could dance to it. That helped. Stan kept a rap station on call in his truck, but Kyle knew when he wasn't there Stan listened to folk rock and classic rock. At least it wasn't country music.

The object of his thoughts got up from the couch and walked over to the radio, turning it on and tuning it. After several seconds he found a station; it was classic rock. Typical. Stan turned towards him and smiled sheepishly. "I know it's not your usual stuff, but at least it comes in?"

Kyle rolled his eyes and sighed, "Get the fuck over here rockabilly."

The taller boy's smile changed to a confident one and he virtually scrambled back to Kyle's side. When he sat down he didn't put up any pretense of indifference. Kyle felt his face heat when Stan practically curled onto his lap and bury his face into the redhead's neck.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan basked in the feel of Kyle against him. He had been a little disappointed when Kyle started leading him into the woods. He had wanted to go on a date and had been too much of a pussy to voice his desire. Then Kyle had shown him this place.

And it was epic.

He would fix that generator if it was the last thing he ever did, just to make Kyle smile. He inhaled the familiar scent of his boyfriend's skin and felt a pang of concern when he thought about how far gone he was. This was all completely new to the other boy. "Kyle," he muttered through the neck he was pressed against, "how long do you think it takes to fall in love?"

It really wasn't a question for him. He was already all the way there and saving a seat. He wanted to know what Kyle thought. It didn't seem positive when he felt the smaller body tense around him. "I…I don't know," he replied, "I guess it depends on the kind of love and the people…"

Stan exhaled and physically wilted. The clinical response was about as negative as it could be without actually hurting his feelings. "Oh," he breathed. Around him, Kyle shifted.

"But…" Kyle continued. He voice rumbled through his chest and shoulder and against Stan's ear. "If two people knew each other for a long time and were friends before…it might not take so long…maybe no time at all…" Stan felt Kyle's arms tighten around him.

Yep. Magical. That guy.

Stan felt euphoria rush over him when Kyle's hands began rubbing circles in his back and finally through his hair. He couldn't help but look up. He was practically laying in the guy's lap. Green eyes were lazily looking over him. It took a moment before their eyes met fully. His breath caught when Kyle smiled at him.

Stan's arms worked on their own accord, gently grasping Kyle's head to pull down to his. The smaller boy grunted and had to adjust himself to an easier angle before their lips finally met. Stan kissed him lazily, gently feeling the texture and pressure of Kyle's lips on his own, before snaking his tongue out languidly to taste the other boy. His lips were still a little sweet from breakfast. It was perfect.

His heart picked up considerably when Kyle's tongue joined his own and they took some time just tasting each other; neither ready to enter the other's mouth, but not wanting to stop either. They continued for several minutes just tasting before Kyle finally probed his tongue into Stan's mouth. The tongue was cooler than normal and it added a jolt of pleasure. It slicked over his teeth before venturing further inside.

Stan moaned and clenched his fists into Kyle's t-shirt. He was way too fucking turned on right now. He parted from the other boy with great difficulty. "Kye," he panted. He felt flushed and sweaty. It wasn't warm out, but it really didn't matter. He was burning up. "Do you…are you really attracted to me?" he asked.

The redhead blushed deeper than he already was, "I'm dating you aren't I?"

Stan held on harder to the boy so he couldn't pull away. Before they did anything they might regret he had to know. "Yeah, but this isn't like an experiment or life experience or anything, right?" His fears that Kyle might want to leave were unjustified because his grip also tightened around Stan.

"No. I mean, I'm kind of winging it right now…but…I've never…you know…" Stan watched Kyle flounder for words and became even more turned on than he had been before. "…wanted to kiss anyone like I do you…or…touch anyone like I want to touch you…" If hearts could explode Stan's would have. It was hammering sporadically as he gazed at Kyle's beet red face.

To keep from announcing his undying, intense, and passionate love for his best friend, Stan jerked his head upwards to catch Kyle's mouth again. It was just so fucking awesome. He moaned again when Kyle's tongue entered his mouth again. It roved more recklessly this time like it was his goal for Stan to actually swallow his tongue.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Stan brought his hands up to the other boy's hips and pulled him on top of his body, so that the redhead and straddling him on the couch. Kyle broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Stan's, breathing heavily, when his ass settled over Stan's hard-on. Stan couldn't help but peek down to see if Kyle was similarly troubled.

He was.

Damn, the midget was pretty well off for his size. Stan couldn't help but feel a little proud. And a lot turned on. "Kyle," he whispered, "tell me if you ever want me to stop anything, okay? It will always be okay."

Above him the redhead gulped and nodded, eyes closed. Slowly, so that he knew his intentions, Stan moved one palm towards the bulge in his boyfriend's pants, stopping only when it was firmly covering the most obvious area. Kyle let out a breathy moan and dug his face into Stan's neck. Taking the noise as consent, Stan carefully began to slowly rub the hard mound under his palm.

"Fuck," his favorite voice ground out from his neck. He almost couldn't take it when a tongue darted out from the mouth and began sucking at his skin. He nearly lost it when, whether uncontrolled or intentional, Kyle began grinding himself into Stan's hand for more contact. The thrusts were roughly rubbing Stan's own erection and he muffled a loud groan.

"Fuck Kyle, I'm not gonna last long with your ass doing that," he gulped. He had never been so turned on in his life. This was the thing heart attacks and strokes were made of. He had never been ready to take the final step with Wendy in all the years that they dated, but here, a week after forming a new relationship with Kyle, and an hour of spending time alone with him, all he wanted was to fuck Kyle, or be fucked.

It didn't help that the earlier threat only served as a promise to the boy above him, because he immediately began grinding against him with almost painful force. "Touch me, Stan," he groaned, "Will you touch me?"

Stan didn't bother with a verbal agreement to the request. He fumbled with urgency he had never felt with the button sealing Kyle's jeans, finally getting it ripped open. The force cause the zipper to pull dull down of its own accord. Blue striped boxers offered little resistance to his shaking grasp.

He was laying fully over the couch now with Kyle on top of him and looking down, hard-on open to the elements. He brought his hand up to his mouth and gave his palm a wet lick, then grasped Kyle's erection. When the redhead threw his head back and moaned into the air, Stan was pretty sure he had just witnessed the most beautiful thing in the world ever. He almost felt a pang of pity for the rest of the world for missing it.

He squeezed as hard as he dared and began to pump his fist in time with Kyle's breathing. The grinding began to match his pumping and he had to bite his lip in concentration. He didn't want to come yet. Not with Kyle like this. But goddamn if it wasn't fucking difficult to hold back.

He ran his thumb over the head to catch the bead of precum that was forming before adding it to the rest of the lubricant he had provided.

"Mmnnggh…" Kyle ground his teeth together and looked like he was in pain. It was sexy as hell. "Stan…I'm gonna…fuck!" The hot wet liquid shot out and landed on Stan's shirt, before the rest of it dribbled down his fist.

And that was all it took.

Stan saw stars as he came on himself. It would have been embarrassing if it weren't the most fucking fantastic orgasm he had ever had. And Kyle hadn't even really touched him. Fuck he was in trouble.

Kyle was slumped over him now, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from his face. He felt the redhead slip his boxers back up and button his jeans back before sitting up fully again. There was no point trying to clean up. There was nothing to clean up with. Stan's shirt was ruined. He flushed to think about potentially meeting someone on their way back to the house.

"Wow," he breathed into the silence, "That was amazing…"

Kyle rolled off him and let him sit up comfortably again. "Yeah, but I didn't even do anything for you…" he mumbled, looking focused at his shoes and trying to rub the blush from his cheeks.

Stan couldn't help a bark of laughter, "Trust me, dude, you did."

After a few moments to gather their wits, the two stood up from the couch and turned off the radio. They may have only eaten an hour ago, but they both felt ready for lunch…and maybe an afternoon nap before Stan went to work.

Kyle suggested a movie they could veg out to as they walked down the hidden path in the woods. Stan agreed, then turned his attention to a pressing matter. "Kyle," he finally asked as they came out to the road in sight of Kyle's house. For good measure he took up the redhead's hand and held it. "Will you go to prom with me…as my date?" he asked.

Kyle grinned foolishly at him. "Sure thing, but you're wearing the dress."

My God this took me forever to think through. I wrote huge sections of plot that I hated when I went back to read, then deleted, then rewrote. Ugh. And then I get to the last bit and it spills out of my brain effortlessly like so much toxic waste. I am a sick, sick individual.

I hope the skipping forward in time technique worked without confusing folks. I wasn't going to get anywhere if I focused on each and every day. I really just wanted to focus on Saturday. Like I said, Style-centric. Also, once again I didn't read over this chapter too closely. It's late for me. Let me know if there are any major flaws.

Well I hope you like this chapter. I have one more in me I think if people like this enough to review….;)

I'm terrible…