Warnings: BoyxBoy intimacy, (Yaoi/Smut)

I do not own/claim to own any part of South Park.

Stakeout

As night fell, a bitter flurry of snow fell over Kyle's backyard. Encased snow covered the floor in a pristine white tile marred only by the foot fallings of the two boys passing across the grass, dragging light duffel bags onto one of the higher tree house platforms.

Stan was doing most of the 'heavy' lifting, climbing the dodgy wooden rungs, onto one of the multiple slightly more stable platforms where their tent was. He sighed inwardly wishing that he had brought more than just a dark overcoat on top of his ranger's outfit, having already been covered with a gentle dusting of ice from the multiple trips he had run before, yet as he tossed in the last bag he could not help but feel a sense of pride.

It was in fact mostly a new idea, during the diplomatic meeting between elves and humans, a number of new add-on rules to the game of capturing the stick were added. For example the stick could not be placed in a sealed container out of plain sight, for 'it was a symbol'. In reality this was just another of Cartman's whines about the pedantic, as having raided the Elven stronghold previously only to find the stick placed inside one rucksack amongst a pile slightly higher than shoulder height, he was almost reduced to tears looking for it.

Whilst he fruitlessly searched Kyle managed to rally the remaining rangers and ambush them from behind, a defeat which still stung as harsh as any Indian burn when brought up in the wizard's presence.

Another new rule was that the stick could be taken during the night, once again brought up by Cartman, "Or at least before sunrise in the morning!" he hastened to add. Subtlety did not come easily to him it would appear as had almost hinted that there would be an attack pre-dawn on Kyle's backyard. Leading said Elven king to propose a stake out, to ensure that the stick remained where it belonged. There were some other minor adjustments about looting lunch money but for once both sides managed to get what they wanted and left hurriedly eager to resume planning for combat.

Stan remembered how Kyle had taken him aside to enlighten him of his new stratagem, sitting across from him on his bed, having gnawed away at half his pencil thinking about it during the meeting.

He suggested, or rather, ordered that Stan and himself would hold the Stick of Truth up in one of the tents in his suspiciously large treehouse, that way when 'wizard fat-ass' came looking for it with his interchangeable followers they could create a 'Hot Gates' scenario atop the ladder and hold off the assault until reinforcements arrived. Stan looked at the poorly concealed glee on Kyle's face as he outlined his plan, his green eyes flashing with something more than bloodlust as he explained what they would need up in the treehouse.

"Wait why don't I just set my alarm for 5:30 and meet you here before he arrives?" Stan asked inquisitively, his curiosity getting the better of him momentarily. Having been caught off-guard his red haired leader gave a long and rambling speech about how that may backfire but he could not remember the specifics, only the boy's face turning an adorable shade of red as he did so quite obviously looking for an excuse for him to just sleep over.

In fairness he reflected that was not necessarily a bad thing, this game had made them extremely busy what with recovering,organising and weaselling loose quarters from behind the sofa for supplies. Knowing better than to say anything Stan kept his mouth closed and accepted the stiff white slip of paper given to him without so much as a second glance, giving him a quick bow, which of course caused the loose feather in his helmet to fall off. Cursing he scribbled the words 'more tape' on the back of the list and hurried off.

More presently he flung his sword belt into the new larger tent which now adorned the tree in his 'super-best-friends' backyard taking a moment to admire the surprising amount of detail placed into making it as inconspicuous as possible.

Sitting a great deal larger than the other tents it in itself was grandiose and kingly yet unlike them it had been covered with a sheet of leaves, branches and other woodland debris to give it a more authentic forest feel. It faced toward the human settlement for ease of spying purposes sitting a good deal higher than the fence separating the few gardens between the kingdom and the KKK headquarters. Kicking a little of the snow which had begun to build up along the wooden planks, Stan breathed in the brisk chill air, barely noticing the cold as it swarmed around him threateningly.

All across South Park he could see the little lights in people's homes flickering out one by one as if on cue to herald the hours of dusk. He removed his helmet as well to help him see a bit better, his peripherals now unimpeded drinking in the ambient lighting surrounding his perch. A few flakes began nestling themselves in his untidy black hair and from that he knew that it was time for him to duck inside before he was bitten by frost.

Kyle had taken the liberty of being a king all too well it appeared as Stan pushed aside one of the heavy-duty flaps of the tent, the interior of the tent out classing what he had seen before by miles, perhaps he intended to move in here? What with all the roughage and other broken tree bits lining the concave walls of the tent, it gave the place a nonetheless darker aura yet cosier as well from all the amenities strewn across the floor.

Against one wall there were two sleeping bags pressed tightly together to allow for more space, an upturned box opposite this to allow books (laptops) to rest upon and still connect to the Broflovski WiFi. In the corner next to it was an old red bean chair with more sag than a stepped on slinky. Kyle had even gone to the lengths of using a little of the left over carpet to cover the floor although clearly a little too much as the ends rolled up against the tent walls like a poor man's draught excluder. His red headed best friend turned to him upon entry, wearing only his burgundy bath robe, and a pair of white socks.

Stan's eyes almost subconsciously rolled up the skinny boy's legs to see what else he may be wearing but the robe sadly cut him short. He mentally cursed himself for thinking of his friend in that sort of light but forgave himself pretty quickly, for Kyle had that sort of skinny nerdy charm going for him. He wasn't wearing his hat either so it was even more appealing to him, his best friend's soft curls bouncing around in his little wooden crown which made him look like a martyr for homoerotic fantasy.

Kyle was laying back on his bean bag in a most unregal position, his bare legs nimbly keeping his laptop aloft on his knees. Seeing Stan stumble inside bringing the elements with him, he quickly shut his laptop and slid it aside trying to act more casual than he had as of folded his arms together so that the plush red fur of his robe covered most of his bare chest to sound more authoritative than he looked, but quickly dropped the pretences when he switched off 'king-mode' around Stan.

"Have you got everything?" * He piped up from his throne as Stan shoved a freshly checked list of items back into his outstretched hand. He loved the way Stan fed the control freak inside of him even going so far as to tick everything he had picked up from around town. His friend slumped into another considerably smaller beanbag (keeping up appearances) opposite him beside the tent opening, his hand absent-mindedly zipping it shut to stop the frankly Arctic breeze from permeating in any more.

His helmet rolling to the side he looked up to his friend looking across at him expectantly. Yep. Definately bare-chested. Stan's excusably dirty mind thought, as his eyes drifted over Kyle's form once more, any qualms about staying on this all nighter were remedied from one swift brutal look at his friend.

"Yeah, everything." Stan replied, his brain having shut down for a split second there.

"So I guess you'll be on first watch?" Kyle flicked the boy still mostly dressed a wry smile twirling the stick between his fingers as if it were blackmail evidence, the innate power it held over their lives pressing hard on his back making the ranger do what he said, not that he would've disobeyed him anyway. Stan shrugged his agreement and started fumbling through his bags for some gear, even he did not want to be gazing out of the tent for hours on end in his armour.

Pulling out some simple shorts and t-shirt for him to sleep in, Stan managed to stand up in the tent, letting his over coat and small cape fall to the floor unceremoniously feeling his best-friend's gaze pin him in the small of the back as if waiting for him to do more. He smirked, perhaps it was in his nature to show off just a little.

Although Stan could only guess as to what his friend's feeling were for him he wanted to at least put on a little show for him, wriggling out of his shirt to flex his pale abdominal muscles then his bare biceps was little more than a fun way to tease Kyle to perhaps make him come out of his shell and show off some true feeling for him. Yet the pensive redhead merely watched, planning as his friend changed in front of him. Stan turned, slightly disappointed deep down, he was maybe hoping for a touch of something... Yet Kyle gave him a serene look of kingly disinterest as he dragged his sleeping bag up to the mouth of the tent, opened the zip just a crack to let his eyes peak out into the gloomy darkness beyond.

It crossed Stan's mind that it wasn't that cold in the tent, narrowing it down to Kyle's desperate frivolous planning techniques to make this as homely as possible, he started lightly chatting with him as he reopened his laptop and began clicking. The still night being punctured only by the occasional click and the frantic typing of the redhead on his laptop.

Stan could only stare out over the edge of the platform for so long before his mind started to wander; for goodness sake he was not a saint!

He vaguely thought about what would happen if the humans decided to try and seize the stick from them although mostly he thought about his feelings toward his half-naked king behind him,who was making this situation a little more hot than it needed to be. He grinned quietly into the carpet, he and Kyle were not really an item or anything merely friends but from the way he was acting...perhaps there was something he was not telling Stan.

Stan was going to be honest with himself, despite his somewhat feeble trepidations towards not doing anything with Kyle, a small rosy blush formed on his cheeks at the times he had touched himself in the shower at the thought of his skinny body pressed messily against the tiled wall with steamy water running down his skin. He had even checked out a bit of the lewd side of the internet and the thought of experimenting with another boy, especially one he could trust like Kyle was downright appetising to his horny hormonal mind.

This was getting way too warm, despite his mouth almost bearing the bitter wind outside, Stan's body was hot all over. He had gone without letting off steam for about a week and it was starting to kick in. He couldn't help but panic just a little on the inside, defiantly sure he would be unable to resist the redhead's sweet bodily charms for the entire night, maybe it was best to just call the whole thing off and head home, so that he may plaster the floor of his shower in white shame.

Yet his body had other plans, it was too hot with his waist in his sleeping bag so Stan was forced to wiggle just enough of it out for most of his thighs to be showing to Kyle if he were to look at just the right angle up his shorts. Worse than that, his dirty thinking had driven him crazy and slowly a familiar lump formed down his front. Now he was sure he could not move it was just out of the question, his friend would see his hardness and probably laugh him right the way back to his house or worse still fire him from his service. Stan was stuck between a rock and a hard place hoping against hope that Kyle's eyes would not be lingering too long on his plump rear like a puffed up soufflé having come out from the oven of his sleeping bag.

Unbeknownst to Stan, Kyle had most of his stuff to one side and was trying to get comfortable in his bean bag. They had never really discussed it before but he would not be this under-dressed if just anyone was in the same tent that he was. Yet this was his rugged ranger, who had really come into form lately, his not quite 'body builder' but rather natural bulk setting off daydreams in Kyle's mind's eye as well.

Stan's perfect well-rounded rump sat just out of his sleeping bag before him, shyly waving to be touched, fondled and caressed. The scent of raw masculinity filling the room incensing the King's nostrils. He gulped and stretched out a sock covered foot quietly through the air. It's thick almost woolly texture making short work of the air between them. The grey covered toes hovering tantalisingly close to his friend's exposed butt, Kyle looked incredibly ill-graceful, with his arms clutching the side of his 'throne' and his body gently rocking forward, teetering on the edge. His white teeth biting into the flesh of his bottom lip to hold back the excited squeal, the boy's foot poked softly into the cushion before it.

It was most definitely an odd sensation, Stan's flesh giving way to the protruding toe, but then becoming tougher at the feel of muscle. He tried on a different area, to the same effect. His excitement was barely contained, but composure was shattered instantly as Stan gave a deep, low husky growl into his folded arms beneath him, as if Kyle was an experienced masseuse. Stan's growl shocked even himself, the raw need inside of him building steadily. He did not dare to turn and face his king, yet silently rejoiced the fact that he may indeed be allowed inside the royal robe, if only for tonight.

The boys laid like that for what must have felt like hours, each little peck of pleasure skating it's way up Stan's spine making him subdued even more. Whilst Kyle just continued to use him as a small footstool. It was he in fact that decided to break the silence by swiftly stopping his work, making Stan let out a small sigh of discontent, before using what little leverage he could to jump on top of his friend. The shaking groan of pain mixed in with a gentle amount of surprise bubbling through each boy's lips as Kyle's half-naked body slammed into his black haired friend. Leaning in close, their bodies aligned quite well under the warm embrace of the huge Elven robe on top of them. The red cloak only adding to the good feeling of their actions. Kyle's mouth pressed close to Stan's ear, soft pink lips tingling with pent up excitement.

"If you want me to stop, just say so..." His words melted over the boy beneath him like warm butter over toast, relieving and filled with such dark sensual undertones. Stan fumbled around in his mental bank for words, each one worse than the last, he had to say something meaningful, heartfelt, to express his passion.

"Oh fuck...don't stop Ky-" His words were cut short feeling his friend slowly start to grind their pelvises together, that mental process just slowing down even more than it was before. "Mmmph. Thank you my liege..." The ranger moaned into the carpet beneath him, soft words muffled between fibres worse still when his sentence trailed off half formed. Kyle grinned, his best-friend putty in his hands now. Covering them in his robe completely, they quickly struggled in a lover's fight for dominance, as Kyle slipped inside Stan's sleeping bag and his friend fought to make him feel how hard he made him get with the constant teasing.

Kyle bit onto his toy's earlobe sharply, sparing him from full force playfully, nipping him into line. "Well we have a while to see how much you can take, I think it would be best if you just lost the pants altogether." The boy agreed quietly suppressing his excitement as his cock sprang forth whilst his shorts joined his ankles, the green briefs kyle was sporting the only thing keeping them from rubbing up against one another. Stan could practically feel Kyle's ribs digging him in the small of the back as his friend whispered sweet dirty things in his ear. He felt stupid for not suggesting this before! There were so many opportunities they missed for snuggling under the sheets... would Kyle want that? There was a certain sense of gentleness to his friend's touch, only there was little build up to this, nothing like in the films. This felt like the product of pent up lust. He had to know if this was at least something special. He turned his head into Kyle's. red locks and sweet pale skin flooding his vision, deep pants washing his face in a balm of heat.

"Kyle, d-does this mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does Stan..."

"I mean I know I'm-m your servant and all but still, perhaps some special treatment should be in order." Stan smiled weakly, hoping his best friend would catch on.

" I think that could be arranged~" Kyle replied in a slight sing-song voice, sliding the tip of his hardening cock between Stan's butt cheeks through the separating green fabric.

Stan's fears of being used were slightly put to rest, turning his head to slam the two's lips together forcefully. Their mouths wrestled a little, the sensation being fully alien to both of them, they just went with what felt natural. What Stan could not make up for in words, ironically his tongue picked up the slack where they left off, worming their way into Kyle's mouth as if it was his own. Kyle was shocked of course as Stan plunged his way into his mouth, after all he had been so submissive of the lasting treatment that by rights he should have to endure the taste of Kyle's taste buds tickling the back of his throat. So their microcosmic duel of mouth musculature continued , their bodies naturally aligning themselves with Kyle on top pressing between the sweet white flesh of Stan's thighs so that the boys' curious members rubbed together to make use of that sweet fabrical friction oh so gently brought by Kyle's undies.

Their kissing was only broken as Kyle slammed his lips shut, keen to make the first move. Playfully tossing off and kicking up his green briefs from the bottom of the sleeping bag, Kyle reached down skating past their melded waists and grabbed them, only to shove them in his lover's face to signify what had just happened, throwing them aside on top of Stan's clothes.

"Oh Fuck, dude..." Stan's words slithered out of his lips as he felt their bare skin clash for the first time, piping hot and stretched taut over their skinny hips, the redhead had gently begun to kiss his way down the side of his neck. Stan's skin was like chocolate to Kyle, years of sweet home-cooking had made it extra plump and juicy, so rich that he could not help but bite into it like a Sunday pot roast! Hickeys began mounting up along the ranger's skin, later to be called 'royal seals' but for now they only turned the submissive teenager on. Dotting his way down from the neck, to the collar, then finally onto the red bud of his nipple, Kyle tasted everything the boy had, rolling said nipple around in his mouth whilst looking up at Stan with great big doleful green eyes.

Yet that was all their bound bodies would be able to do in terms of foreplay, trapped in the insulated layers of their sleeping bag. Kyle's grin grew from ear to ear as he began to work his way back up again, his long thin hand having grasped his victim's member. He started slowly, unsure of himself for the first time that night, rolling the not quite fully hard hunk of meat between his fingers, gently stroking him. His thumb-tip was pressed closely to his friends tip, gently sliding back the skin to unveil his purple plump glans. Stan could not help but moan and maintain eye-contact with his torturous mastermind of a bestie, letting him use his body for experimentation. His ministrations were well rewarded as well, Kyle's hand rubbing in every dollop of pre over his friend to make him shiny and sticky. Kyle could sense his best friend would love to let himself go but would rather do so at something more stimulating to save a little embarrassment. Kyle leant down with his other hand and leant the top half of his body into Stan's shoulder, a perfect place for him to hear his lover's moans and breaking resistance whilst also fan the flames of their growing passion.

With Stan's knees in such a compromising position spread nicely outside of Kyle's, said redhead's fingers made short work travelling up his hunky thighs hearing the soft whimpers as the fate of the noirette's backdoor became cruelly clear. To compensate, his friend's fingers along his member slid down slightly and began teasing the weak spot under the helmet to pump out some more clear juice over himself. Nearing his lover's lower hole, Kyle quickly jutted his fingers up and out of the sleeping bag to cram them into Stan's open mouth, glazing them in a fine coat of majestic saliva. Lube sorted temporarily, the redhead's index began exploring the challenge set before it, teasing its way along the tight seemingly virgin hole. Yet with a simple flick it sent the owner's body a quiver, leading Kyle to sigh and shove gently inside of his friend's tight ass.

Stan was breathless with lack of self-control now. He had stopped talking just to see how dirty his friend could be without him stopping him and he loved it. Stan wordlessly asked and Kyle wordlessly gave, it was as if his majesty knew exactly what he wanted and how he was going to give it, the week's pent up pressure in his balls yearning to be set free. His lips were wet and he knew that if he moaned like this all the time no doubt his vocal chords would follow the rest of body into the dance of fatigue. The Elven King could see the ranger's time was almost at a close what with the innate pleasure covering his organs, he smirked to himself giggling mentally.

"Red Rocket, Red Rocket!"

He cooed into the boy's ears, watching him flush with embarrassment but a certain lust in his eyes twinkling as another box on someone's bucket list was filled. Stan just lost control, bucking his hips violently in the sleeping bag as his muscles spasmed, thick white jet after thick white jet coating his friend's waiting hand. Panting aside, with a regal amount of grace, Kyle withdrew his hands from deep inside and began wiping them over some a few tissues plucked from a box in one of the duffel bags. Stan's world was still spinning back into focus as his friend casually jumped back inside next to him.

"Oh my god Kyle...just wow..."

Kyle smiled knowingly, satisfied with his job even more so now that he had practically bedded a willing slave. He chuckled, letting the raven-haired boy nuzzle close into the crook of his shoulder, still mostly naked but a little more cleaned up. Although his lust was in no fit state to be dealt with by his submissive compatriot. He would be paid ten fold when they spent another night at each other's house with an actual bed.

Laying in the after glow of a spent Stan , with sweat making his black hair flop slightly lopsided he lovingly pushed it aside to see the boy's eyelids fluttering in the first makings of would be hell to make up for tomorrow, another blissful day with his dick going to be sucked in more ways than one. With that comforting thought nestled in his mind, Kyle gripped his sweaty damp and erotically smelling super-best-friend-with-benefits and began to fall into unconsciousness too.

It's not like Cartman was even attacking tomorrow anyway.

A.N:/

Thank you very much for reading my first fan-fiction,

I took a little too much enjoyment in writing this and hope that you enjoyed at least somewhat reading it as well. Normally I prefer stories with a cohesive plot but inspiration just took me when playing The Stick of Truth.

So if I could trouble you for a review that would be awesome :D

~SubtleBarbarism~