OOOH! Wow. So it's time to finally start the sequel! Fun times for all! Except not so much this time around. Still humour, angst and boo hoo sad too. It's not going to start off that way though! Enjoy!
Synopsis: Sequel to AESAD. Shaky ground lies ahead for Stan and Kyle as the boys deal with coming out and being in a long distance relationship. There may not be a happy ending for the perfect couple after all.
This story is dedicated to my beloved e-wife. Indiana Beach Bum, for being a 'continuing source of inspiration to me' .
Please leave a review! I want to see if you guys liked this first chapter!
Disclaimer: Don't own South Park.
Chapter 1 – Of Burnination and Long Distance Love
Eighteen year old Kyle Broflovski tapped his hand impatiently against the dashboard of his car, waiting for the traffic lights to change colours. His car's clock read 4:36, meaning he was running a full five minutes behind according to his own tight schedule.
"Come on, come onnnn," he urged the light. Why did it always take so long when he was in a hurry? He couldn't run behind today. Today was important.
Kyle had meticulously planned out every detail, every single, tiny, miniscule, insignificant part of his plan, refusing to allow anything to go wrong. But, as always seemed to happen, something went wrong. And now he was five minutes behind.
The light changed colours, and Kyle sent up a silent prayer of gratitude to Moses. He sped past all the other cars; if they saw him at all, it would have only been the shiny metallic blue tint of Blitzkrieg as the Ferrari zoomed past them.
Kyle was and wasn't your typical teenager. He was tall, nearly 6'1 in fact, and built slender. A mass of mahogany curls cascaded down the sides of his head, framing his face. A pair of fierce green-blue eyes gazed out on the world, always taking in information, always calculating. It was on rare occasion that something was not going on behind them. Generally if one was asked to comment on Kyle's looks, the words more likely heard would be 'cute' or 'charming' or 'handsome', as opposed to 'hot', 'sexy', or even 'fuckable.' There was probably only one person who would describe Kyle like that, and he wasn't here right now.
Kyle wore his dark green Harvard University sweater that was quickly becoming his new trademark, his old hat discarded somewhere between the ninth and tenth grades. It was no surprise that he was attending an Ivy League school; after all, his father was a lawyer, and Kyle HAD graduated at the top of his class. Destined for greatness, that's what his best friend had always said.
"Oh, goddamnit," he cursed as he hit yet another red light. Things were not going his way. He prayed the few minutes wouldn't mess up his plan. There had been a car accident on the freeway, slowing down traffic. Kyle had gone from being 22 minutes ahead of schedule to being behind schedule. But now he was off of the freeway and nearing his destination with every breath he took. His stomach squirmed in anticipation. He had, after all, not seen his boyfriend in nearly a month and a half.
A wide grin spread across the boy's face as he pictured what Stan's reaction would be when he showed up unexpectedly at his dorm room. Kyle had had a midterm the night before, leaving a full week between today and his final one; the perfect opportunity. He had been poking and prodding Stan incessantly about his workload and schedule almost since the day they had left each other to return to university. It turned out that Stan had had one two days before, and was out in the clear for a week and a half.
Kyle was pretty sure that God loved him. Or at least condoned gay relationships.
But of course, Stan would have become suspicious of the fact that they both had roughly a week between exams, so Kyle had told Stan that he had two midterms this week; one in a business ethics course and one in a common law practices one. Kyle had also told him he was in the Harvard library for the day studying, and that he'd bring his cell phone with him. That way if Stan called his room, he would 'know' why Kyle wasn't there.
But of course, nothing guaranteed that Stan himself would be in his room when Kyle arrived, so two weeks ago he had called Stan up with a plan in mind.
"Hllo?" Stan answered his phone while yawning. There was usually only one person who'd call him so late at night, and that was Kyle.
"Hey Stan," the voice said, confirming the caller. This was not uncommon; Kyle was often doing homework up until the sun rose and then he'd go to bed, if he slept at all that night. Stan didn't mind though. Kyle could call anytime at all, and Stan would still have been happy to hear his voice.
"Oh hey dude, what's up?"
"We need a song."
Stan moaned. Except maybe for this reason. "What? Kyle, it's three o clock in the morning. Couldn't this have waited?"
"No. We need a song."
"Why?" Stan scratched his back.
"Because all couples do," Kyle reasoned with him. He had had to swallow his pride to do this; like hell they needed a 'song'. The notion was just so… gay.
"Well just pick a song then!"
"No, you need in on this."
"Kyle, I don't know how badly your homework has been affecting your brain, but I really don't care."
"Come on. Just pick one."
"What about our Code Blue song?"
Kyle snorted at this. "I don't think they're allowed to play that one on the radio."
Stan was baffled. "On the radio? What the fuck Kyle?"
"Choose another one."
Stan searched his still half-asleep brain, coming up with little to choose from. "Afroman – Because I Got High?"
Kyle had laughed loudly at this. "Where the hell did that come from?"
Stan had shrugged even though Kyle couldn't seen him. "Iunno. Does it matter?"
Kyle was still laughing. "Fine then. Turn on the radio on the 18th between 4 and 6 pm. Be in your room; I'm calling you afterwards. Bye Stan!" And he had hung up, leaving Stan confused and weary. Stan hadn't even bothered to call him back, asking what the hell was going on; within minutes he had fallen back asleep.
Kyle snorted as he was released from the latest red light. He had called Stan about half an hour ago to 'say hello', or rather, make sure he was in his room. Stan would be listening to the radio intently right now for a song that would never come. Probably for a dedication that would never come either. Leaving songs on the radio was, in Kyle's opinion, one of the lamest things a couple could so. 'Oh cutesy bunny baby I love you forever and here's the song that was playing on the night we kissed!' was not Kyle's style in any way. There WAS no song when he and Stan had first kissed.
Kyle had long since been trying to decide what kiss had counted as their 'first kiss.' It had technically been during an unfortunate game of spin the bottle at a Christmas party, in which both of them had been forced into it. Kyle had later kissed Stan to try to get Kenny to leave them alone, which had failed. Then Stan had kissed Kyle in his room, but he had been too surprised to do anything back. Kyle liked to believe their REAL first kiss was in the front of his car, on the way to the hospital after an unfortunate incident involving the stairs, a wall and a broken hand.
Kyle flexed his fingers as he drove. The splints hadn't even been off for a week, and he was still getting used to the feel of it. Typing up papers had been such a bitch to do the past while; Kyle was practically jumping for joy when it was time to have them removed. Not to mention it made driving a lot easier as well.
Kyle checked the map again. He had roughly half an hour to go until he'd get to DeVry. Driving from Massachusetts to Ohio had taken a while – almost fourteen hours when pit, gas, and food stops were totaled in. He had left the previous night around 2:30 in the morning. Kyle had just finished his midterm at 7pm that day, and had spent the remaining time packing the few things he needed and pacing his room, trying to find a solution for every possible thing that could go wrong, from 'what if Stan wasn't feeling well?' to 'what if Stan was captured by a band of pirates?' Hey, knowing his life, it could happen.
Kyle hadn't yet thought of a solution for that one.
Traffic, however, was completely out of his control. Kyle had in the end left half an hour early, and thank God he had, or else he would have been running even further behind. And so it happened that Kyle, once again, had not slept for two nights.
Kyle had come into contact with Stan's roommate, some kid named Dylan, a few weeks back. Stan and Dylan had an interconnecting room, meaning that to get to Stan's room, he had to walk through Dylan's. And Kyle figured it would probably have been for the better if he didn't show up at some kid's door he had never seen before, having to explain himself. He wanted things to run as smoothly as possible.
So he had hacked into Stan's MSN yet again and retrieved the name, just as he had with Stan's ex-girlfriend before. When Stan had found out about it that time, he had threatened to change his password, but he must have forgotten, because it was the same as always. Not that it would have mattered; Kyle would have found a way into it whether Stan changed the password or not. He was good with computers like that.
When Kyle had first talked to Dylan, Dylan had been a little suspicious of him. That tended to happen when random people started talking to you claiming to know your roommate. He explained his plan to him, and after verifying that Stan was, in fact, his boyfriend, Dylan was willing to lend his help. How could he NOT have been able to verify it anyways? Stan had never shut up about Kyle, even when they weren't dating, something which had driven his ex mad. Not literally though. Mandy was insane to begin with.
Dylan had come from Ohio, and was a philosophy major. After he and Kyle had become acquainted, they had spent several hours debating religion and current events, determined to trump each other. They had had to declare a draw on numerous occasions.
Kyle didn't how this all would have worked out if it wasn't for Dylan's help. Dylan had sent him directions on exactly how to get to their dorm room from the main university entrance, something Kyle would not have been able to ask Stan for fear of being far too obvious. Dylan had agreed to stay in his room from four to six to make sure Stan didn't leave and to let Kyle in when he arrived. And also to delay Stan if, for some reason, Kyle was severely delayed and wouldn't make it there until past six.
In that case, Stan would probably have called him, demanding to know what sort of joke he was pulling. Kyle had two excuses – one, that the damn radio station fucked it up somehow, and two, that maybe they were just running behind and the song would be played shortly. Stan was smart, Kyle knew, and would suspect him of doing something more than just playing some lame song, but Kyle had been very careful to hide his plans, and hoped that Stan was still totally clueless about it.
Meanwhile, Stan was restlessly sitting in his room, playing Internet games and basically killing time. His radio was on of course, just like Kyle had told him. He sighed, pushing a strand of jet black hair from his face. He was practically the same height as Kyle, although he was built more muscular than his significant other, and was probably the one more likely to be described as 'hot' or 'sexy'. He knew that there had to be more to this than just some dumb song being played. Stan suspected the song was some sort of decoy, but like hell if he knew for what.
He stared out the second story window, watching people walk around on the ground below. After a few moments, he turned back to the screen, where 'YOU LOSE' flashed bright red in his face. He clicked the game off and leaned back on his chair. If Kyle wanted something to stay hidden, it would. And it irritated Stan beyond all belief, because he really wanted to know what the hell his boyfriend was up to. He blew another strand of hair out of his face in exasperation, and closed his eyes, willing to see into Kyle's head via telepathy. After a moment he gave up; Kyle, after all, was the one with the slight psychic ability, not him. Stan opened a textbook, intending to do homework of some kind, but within minutes he had ditched it in favour of another Internet game.
'Burninated!' the screen read before him as he smote yet another peasant. Stan slowly let out a breath of air. Burninating things would have been a lot more fun if Kyle were there.
Kyle's heart jumped to his throat as he turned onto the final street separating Stan and himself. This was it; this was the final length. Giving himself something to do, Kyle drained the last of his cold coffee from a few hours ago, grimacing at the stale taste. His hand twitched, and then his eye. It had been far too long since he last saw Stan. Basically the only things that had kept him going were the frequent phone calls, his plan and the (ahem) memories in the back seat of Blitzkrieg. Everything he had planned was coming together rapidly. Kyle found himself breathing faster as he urged his body to calm down. He vaguely wondered if asthma was contagious.
Kyle's brain had started to go on overload the second he noticed a sign gesturing towards the main parking area to DeVry. What if Stan wasn't there after all? What if the buildings got mixed up? What he missed out on some crucial part of the plan? What if he got lost? What if Dylan forgot? What if that song really DID play, and Stan left thinking it was over? What if Stan was with someone else? What if Stan was with a crab person? What if Stan was brutally murdered by a crab person? What if Stan WAS a crab person?
"Get a grip, Kyle," he said to himself as he pulled into the nearest parking space, turning off his engine. He undid his seatbelt then leaned forwards, resting his head lightly against the steering wheel. He closed his eyes, trying to remember what his anger management class back in ninth grade had taught him when he needed to calm down. He breathed in slowly, and exhaled even slower. He was finally there. At DeVry University, hundreds of miles away from Harvard where his parents expected him to be. He didn't come all this way for them. He came all this way for Stan. And somewhere, Stan was subconsciously waiting for Kyle to burst into his dorm room and sweep him off of his feet.
He hoped that the few days he'd be there would be enough. And even if it wasn't, reading week was only two weeks away at this point, and they'd both be coming home then. And he'd be taking a plane this time too. Fuck leaving Blitzkrieg behind for a while – Stan was his priority.
Kyle snorted at his luck. It was on rare occasion that reading week occurred during the exact same days for two completely different universities, as far as he knew. Either someone up there really liked him, or all this good luck was making up for some future bad event. Kyle liked to believe the former.
Kyle was just about to exit the car when his cell phone rang, making the poor boy jump ten feet in the air, narrowly missing his head on the roof of his car. He saw Stan's name light up the tiny screen, and Kyle resisted the urge to vomit out his lungs. That was his boyfriend's area of expertise, not his own.
Kyle flipped open his phone. "Hey Stan."
"I'm so bored," Stan whined.
Heh, not for long you aren't, Kyle thought to himself.
"Well, what the hell do you want me to do about it?" he chose to respond instead.
Stan flopped onto his bed carelessly. "Iunno, something!" He complained. "When the hell is this song going to come on? I want to go out and do something."
"Soon," Kyle promised. "And then you can go out and do whatever the hell you want." Kyle was tempted to hang up on Stan so he could start hacking his way across DeVry. He rifled for the campus map that was buried underneath an assortment of things including a map of Ohio and an empty french fry carton.
Stan sighed on the other end, flipping over his desk chair with his feet. It landed with a rather loud thump. "Kyle, what exactly are you up to? I'm going out of my mind trying to figure you out."
Kyle played the innocent bystander. "What would I be up to? I'M going out of MY mind here trying to memorize these notes."
Stan growled, frustrated with his counterpart. "I know. Just – do me a favour, and give yourself a break, alright? You're going to have a nervous breakdown one of these days."
"Promise," Kyle said dutifully. "I'll talk to you later Stan."
"Love you too." Kyle turned off his cell and slowly exited the car to begin his trek to Stan's residence.
It didn't turn out to be much of a trek after all. Just as Dylan had said, the building was really easy to find. Kyle darted between three or four ominous brick lecture halls before locating the place dead ahead of him, complete with a tacky gold eagle at the front. Nearly every college and university had one – apparently it represented brains, or something? Kyle's knees wobbled upon sight of the residence, but somehow he managed to remain upright and continue walking. As he passed by, he noticed several people staring at him, even a few glaring. He suspected that today wasn't the best of days to be wearing his Harvard University sweater. Kyle shoved his hands into his pockets, wishing he had brought a coat along with him as the chilly February air nipped at him.
Upon reaching the building, Kyle practically flung himself inside away from the cruel cold, receiving even more cold glances from DeVry enthusiasts. Ignoring them, he waited a few moments to warm up, then located a set of stairs, clamboring up to the second of four levels.
'Right, right, left, room 2035,' Kyle recited inside his head. His hands were visibly shaking and he was moving in quick jerks. His stomach had turned itself inside out, and his heart was beating so loud and fast that he wouldn't have been surprised if someone came out from one of the rooms and yelled at him to keep it down.
And there it was. Room 2035 in all it's magnificent glory. Kyle beamed just looking at the door, deciding there and then that this was his most favourite door in the entire world.
This was it. The moment that he had been waiting for, that all his planning had gone into.
The excited redhead took a final deep breath before knocking lightly on the door. It opened moments later, revealing who Kyle assumed to be Dylan. He was shorter than Kyle, with dark brown hair and even darker eyes.
'Kyle?' Dylan mouthed silently at the boy in question, who nodded in response. Dylan hesitated, looking him up and down.
"Nice sweater," he whispered to Kyle, before beckoning him in with a smirk on his face.
Dylan's room was very plain. The walls were white with blue bed sheets. There was a Playboy calendar on the wall and several posters. Papers littered his desk.
"Does he have any clue at all?" He hissed at Kyle, who was becoming paler by the second.
'I don't think so,' A very nervous Kyle hissed back. Dylan nodded, indicating the door leading into Stan's room with his hand before sitting back down at his desk.
Kyle refused himself another second to contemplate his plan. He quickly walked over to the door and knocked on it loudly.
"What the hell do you want Dylan?" Stan shouted from within. He was busy trying to balance a pencil on his chin. Kyle melted at the sound of his boyfriend's voice, not made artificial by global satellites. Dylan snorted at Stan's response.
"Just open the door, you lazy retard!" Dylan shouted back while laughing, saving Kyle from having to say anything.
Stan grumbled something from within before the sound of his footsteps were heard approaching the door on the other side. Kyle stiffened as the doorknob turned.
The door swung open inwards, revealing Stan. He was looking ratty in his grey pajama top and blue pants. He looked at Kyle, and it took a moment for him to register who exactly it was standing before him. His eyes widened in pure shock.
"Hey-" was the only word Kyle managed to get out before the door slammed in his face, narrowly missing his nose.
Dylan, who was watching the whole thing, doubled over laughing, nearly falling off his chair in the process as Kyle stood at the door, utterly bewildered. But before the boy had a chance to respond to Stan's actions, the door was yanked open again, and a very ecstatic Stan Marsh flung himself into the arms of his boyfriend, causing Kyle to stagger backwards.
"Oh my God!" He exclaimed shrilly while clutching onto Kyle's sweater as if his life depended on it. He drew back, touching his boyfriend's hair, cheeks, shoulders and chest before throwing himself back into his arms.
Kyle laughed as he returned the embrace, sporadically placing his hands all over his torso before settling in at his waist, drawing the happy boy closer towards himself. It felt so good to have his boyfriend in his arms once again. He never wanted to let him go.
"Holy shit Kyle! You're here – and – and –" Stan babbled, too encompassed in his excitement to worry about making any sense.
"Is – is this how you always greet visitors? Slamming the door in their face?" Kyle tried to joke. Stan's hands on him felt so good. He was quickly losing all his verbal skills taught to him before kindergarten. The only thing he could focus on was his best friend, right there, right then. Kyle placed both his hands on Stan's face, drawing his head in towards his own, and engulfed him in a completely mind blowing kiss. All that time apart, all that emptiness and depression, had been replaced with sheer euphoria within seconds.
The kiss didn't last too long as both the boys were grinning from ear to ear, making it very difficult to do anything. Stan hadn't felt so good in ages. Something flickered on in the back of his mind.
"You – you said you had midterms, you liar!" He exclaimed, letting out an amused grunt while gouging his face into the crevice between Kyle's neck and shoulders.
"I know!" Kyle exclaimed, giddy with happiness. He closed his eyes and breathed in Stan's scent, holding him even tighter to his body.
"And – and, I just called you, and – and you said you were studying!"
"I KNOW!" Kyle exclaimed again, even louder than before. Intelligent responses were out of the picture for the moment.
A rather loud 'ahem' caught both the boys' attention. They turned their heads, still clutching onto each other, to face a very amused Dylan.
"As much as I hate to break up this gay-fest," he began, "I'd appreciate it if you could continue this elsewhere. Like not in my room."
Stan blushed. "Right." He guided Kyle into his bedroom, kicking the door shut. He took the precaution of locking it as well.
"And how about a little courtesy music?" Dylan's muffled voice yelled. Stan snorted, turning his radio on louder, where lo and behold, Because I Got High by Afroman was playing. Kyle laughed rather loudly.
Stan looked at him, mildly confused. "What? Didn't you request it?"
Kyle shook his head. "No, man. It was all a ploy to keep you in your room."
Stan beamed. "ARRRGH you asshole!" He exclaimed, kissing his boyfriend again while running his hands up and down his sides.
"So – how did this all work out?" Stan asked when he had broken the kiss.
"Well-" Kyle began, but Stan interrupted him
"Actually, I don't care. You can tell me later," he decided. "I'd rather do something else right now." And with that, Stan shoved Kyle rather forcefully backwards onto his bed. Before the other boy had time to even protest, Stan had clambered on top of him, sitting on his stomach while pinning his arms above his head.
"Your hand looks good," Stan commented before leaning down and kissing his boyfriend. Kyle eagerly kissed him back while struggling with Stan's grip on his wrists. After a moment, he managed to break free. He grabbed onto Stan's arms, forcing the other boy down on top of him. Stan's tongue pried between Kyle's lips easily, allowing access into his mouth.
Kyle moaned in sheer delight as he felt Stan's tongue explore the inside of his mouth before coming into contact with his own tongue. He hadn't felt this way in ages. It really had been too long. Kyle slid his hands under the back of Stan's shirt, feeling his soft skin underneath.
After a few minutes, Stan moved away from Kyle's mouth in favour of his neck. The time they had been apart hadn't affected Stan's memory of what places exactly made Kyle tick the most. They weren't hard to find – Kyle was pretty obvious about them.
"Oh God …Stan…" Kyle breathed as his boyfriend made it to his collarbone. He tilted his head back, allowing himself to be consumed with pure bliss. "I've missed you…so much…"
"I've missed you too Kyle," Stan murmured, enjoying the pleasure he was causing his best friend. Kyle weakly reached between their bodies, grabbing onto Stan's crotch. Stan gasped in surprise. He completely forgot about Kyle's neck as he drove his body into his boyfriend's, who had yet to let go. He felt he may explode.
"Aaaah…Kyle…" he moaned. "Coming here…is the best idea you've ever had…"
Kyle finally released his hold, raising his hands up to grasp either side of Stan's sweating face. After a moment, Stan reopened his eyes and found himself gazing into those of his companion.
"Isn't it?" he replied with a smirk on his face. Stan smiled, and Kyle pressed his lips softly against Stan's once more. He gently lifted Stan's shirt up over his head, and Stan did the same to him. A contended sigh escaped both boys as their bare chests came into contact.
No further words were spoken as Stan and Kyle picked up from where they had left off.
"Wait, so you're telling me Dylan was in on this the whole time?"
Kyle nodded. Quite a chunk of time had passed since he had arrived now, and the boys were still lying on Stan's bed, both topless. Kyle had one arm wrapped loosely around the back of Stan's neck and his shoulder, and one of Stan's hands rested lightly against the other's chest. Kyle had just finished telling him about his whole plan, and Stan was, quite literally, dumbfounded.
"And you've been planning this for over a month?" Stan was still in shock that Kyle had thought to plan this all out, and in such detail too.
"Yep," Kyle responded, feeling rather pleased with himself. After all, his plan had gone over nearly perfectly. "And you had no clue, right?"
Stan smiled broadly, caressing Kyle's chest. He hadn't had even the slightest clue. "You are so awesome."
They lay together for another while, enjoying each other's presence until Stan's stomach grumbled rather loudly, informing both of them that it was time to eat three hours ago. They decided that they would walk to a nearby pub that Stan knew as they were pretty sure the residence cafeteria wouldn't be serving dinner at 10 pm.
"Ugh, dude where's my shirt?" Kyle demanded after gazing around the room. Stan snickered, making Kyle very suspicious.
"Stan, what did you do with my shirt? And my glasses too, for that matter."
Stan tried to shrug innocently, much like a child. "I don't know."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "You are a horrible liar, you know that?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Kyle sniggered before rolling on top of Stan. "You're a lying bastard, and you're going to tell me now where you put them."
Stan's eyes flashed with defiance. "Make me."
"Okay." Kyle kissed Stan on the mouth. "Where'd you put them?"
"I'll never tell you." Stan was clearly enjoying being 'forced' to tell even more than Kyle was enjoying trying to make him.
Kyle moved down to Stan's neck, kissing and biting gently. "Where'd you put them Stan?"
"You'll never find out."
Kyle opted for his boyfriend's chest. "Tell me."
Kyle's final attempt was at his boyfriend's 'weak' spot, just above his belly button. After a few minutes, Kyle stopped. "Tell me now?" It was more of a question than anything else.
"Oh God…NO!" Stan practically shouted the last part. He sneered at Kyle. "I told you – you can't make me."
Kyle hoisted himself off of Stan and instead sat on his stomach. "Fine. You leave me with no other choice-"
Stan's eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn't dare."
Kyle grinned at the expression on Stan's face. "Oh, wouldn't I?" And before Stan could say anything else about it, Kyle had jabbed his fingers into Stan's stomach, tickling him brutally.
Stan immediately burst into laughter, writhing beneath his boyfriend. "Ah! Kyle, stop it!" He tried to exclaim between breaths. "You make it HURT, you asshole!"
But Kyle was unforgiving. "Where's my shirt?"
Tears were now streaming down Stan's face as he continued to squirm, trying to evade Kyle. "Never!"
"Where is it?"
"You're going to give me an asthma attack Kyle!"
"No!" Stan desperately tried to push Kyle's hands away with his own, and failed. "You're going to bruise me!"
"Oh well," was Kyle's careless response.
"Fucking…hell!" Stan wheezed out, finally thinking of a solution. He jabbed Kyle hard into either side, causing Kyle to suck in a sharp breath, momentarily stopping his torture to grab his sides. Stan used the time to knock Kyle over off the bed. However, Kyle was quick, and as he fell he grabbed Stan's arm, taking him down with him.
Needless to say, they both landed in a laughing heap on the ground.
"My shirt!" Kyle exclaimed, seeing it a few feet away from them. He started to get up to go get it, but Stan grabbed him by the leg, causing him to fall back down.
"Goddamnit Stan let me get my shirt!" Kyle laughed while trying to shake him off. He finally managed to shake Stan off of him and succeeded in getting his shirt and putting it back on. Stan in the meanwhile had given up and retrieved his own shirt along with Kyle's glasses. He snuck up behind Kyle and wrapped him in a hug, passing his glasses to him with one hand.
Stan lowered his arms to Kyle's stomach and rested his head against the back of his boyfriend's neck. "When are you leaving?"
Kyle placed his own hands overtop of Stan's. "Two days."
Stan grinned, satisfied with his response. "Excellent. Let's go get food."
"Let's. I'm starving. Oh, and we need to bring my stuff back here from Blitzkrieg too."
"Alright. That must have been a long fucker of a drive."
Stan remembered to turn off his radio before he and Kyle exited the room, finding Dylan on his computer just as before.
Stan wrinkled his nose. "Dude, have you been here this whole time?"
Dylan turned around in his seat to acknowledge him. "I should ask you the same thing. No, I left for dinner, went to the library to take out some books, talked to a few people then came back. What the hell have you been up to? Actually, forget it. I don't want to know." Both Stan and Kyle sniggered at his last comment.
"We're going to get food. Later," Stan said as they made their way to the door.
"Later. Oh, and Kyle! You totally owe me a debate for everything I did! And this time, you can't copy and paste your answers from sites."
"Damnit. And that was my best tactic too. Thanks for everything Dylan."
"No problem." Dylan saluted them as Stan took Kyle by the hand and led him out the doors.
Stan held Kyle by the waist the entire walk to the pub. It was nice to be able to show their affection for each other in public without fear of repercussion. They talked all the way to the pub, and on the way back, they had a minor detour behind a building. After a few minutes, Stan and Kyle both concluded that making out under a starry night in the freezing cold wasn't nearly as romantic as either thought it would be, and never tried anything of the sort again for the rest of their natural lives.
Instead, they trekked back to Stan's room, turned the radio back on and performed the best sequel ever made to what they had been doing previously.
As they fell asleep in each other's arms, neither of them could decipher a moment where they had truly been happier than they were right then.
Like it? Hate it? Want to beat me brutally because of it? Let me know!