A Style [ StanKyle ] fan fiction.
Well, I normally don't write nowadays, but I really wanted to write a long-distance smut fic, only because I'm going through some distance issues with my significant other. Not like that's everyone's business, but whatever. On with the story.
A cold, winter breeze drifted throughout South Park on a still, quiet December night. Kyle Broflovski lay in his bed, tossing and turning for the past hour or so. Sleep was impossible for him. His best friend, Stan Marsh was out-of-state visiting his relatives for Christmas. Kyle's eyes were locked onto his alarm clock on his nightstand. It read 3:15.
"Goddammit," Kyle muttered to himself, as he shoved his face into his pillow. This was going to be a long weekend, he thought, over and over. He eyed his cell phone that rested by his alarm clock, and had a spur-of-the-moment idea.
There was something that rang in Kyle's head as he carefully eyed his cell phone, and thought. Stan had said that Kyle could call him if he needed anything. Anything. Kyle was desperate, but his inner modesty told him that calling Stan wasn't the best idea. Although, he could text him instead of calling him.
Kyle hastily reached for his phone, and quickly keyed in Stan's phone number. 'Stan, are you awake still? I really want to talk to you,' Kyle typed into his phone, and hit the green 'send' button. His mind was thinking too fast for Kyle himself to catch up. Little did he know, his hands were coated with tiny beads of sweat, and his breathing had sped up.
'Calm down,' Kyle thought to himself, 'You're just talking to your best friend. It's not like--.' The buzzing of his cell phone ripped him from his thoughts. Kyle's eyes flickered to the LCD, and it read: "Incoming Call - Stan M". A single, light gasp escaped Kyle's lips.
His fingers fumbled to flip open the lid of his cell phone. "H-hello?" Kyle whispered in a low, questioning voice into the microphone. There was a rustling noise on the other end, and then Stan's voice rang clear.
"What're you doing awake, Kyle?" Stan's voice was the exact opposite of fatigued. It sounded as if he had been up for as long as Kyle had been awake. "It's not healthy for a teenage guy to skimp on sleep, dude."
Kyle couldn't help but laugh when he heard Stan scold him. "Then what's your excuse?" There was an awkward silence between the two of them as Stan tried to come up with a decent excuse. Kyle, however, grew impatient quickly. "Well, Stan Marsh? What's your exc--"
"I want you, Kyle." Stan rudely interrupted Kyle midsentence. "I want you with me, right now. I want you in the bed I'm laying in. I want you in my arms. I want to…" His voice drifted off, as Kyle lay in confusion, his mouth agape. What was his best friend saying?
"Stan, I-I don't know what to say." Kyle whispered. He sat up in his bed and ran a hand through his curly red hair. "What exactly do you mean?"
"I'm sorry, it was a stupid thing to say." Stan replied. "I'm just… desperate."
Kyle did a double take, and shook his head, "What? How can you be desperate? I'm not the only one you can talk to at 3 in the fucking morning!" His voice sounded agitated. Was his best friend really just using him for a late night conversation?
Stan sighed, and covered his face in his pillow. "I didn't mean it like that, dude. I meant I'm so desperate to fuck something. There, happy, now that I said it?!"
Kyle's jaw nearly hit the floor at Stan's statement. 'He's implying he wants to fuck me?' he thought to himself, and tried to shake the mental image of the two of them, together, in bed, completely-- "Oh, for the love of… Stan, are you implying that--"
"Shut up," curtly, Stan cut off Kyle again. This was making Kyle upset. "Are you the only one awake, Kyle? I want to… try something."
A bright red blush covered Kyle's face as he quickly realized what Stan was trying to get him to do. "S-Stan!" Kyle hissed into the phone, "You want me to have phone sex with you, don't you?!"
"That's the blunt way of putting it. Dude, answer my question."
"I-I…" The red-haired boy didn't know how to respond at first. He wasn't sure if he really wanted a relationship like that with Stan just yet. They were just friends a couple of minutes ago, and now they were practically a something. "I-I'm pretty sure I'm the only one awake… Are you really going to go through with this? Stan… I thought we were just--"
"We can still be just friends. This is just an experiment, okay?" Stan reassured his wary counterpart. "Now, just pretend I'm right there, laying next to you. We're laying side-by-side, and then, I reach over, and put my hand inside your shirt."
Kyle lay back down, and held the phone shakily up to his ear, as his other free hand acted out Stan's words. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and attempted to speak. "U-uh huh… and then what?" Kyle choked out, nervousness coating his voice.
The dark-haired boy quickly noticed the other's nervousness. "Kyle, do you seriously not want to go through with this? We can stop. I won't--"
"Just tell me what you're gonna fucking do!" Kyle nearly shouted into his phone, realizing soon after that his parents and Ike were still in the house, sleeping away. "S-sorry. You're just… driving me insane already."
Stan laughed, and kicked the covers off of his bed, as he figured they would get in the way. "Feisty. I like that, Kyle." He paused, as he hear Kyle growl in frustration and desperation on the other end. "A-anyway. I'm right there. I grab your neck with my other hand, and kiss it up and down, and bite it; kind of like those vampire-freaks, but harder."
Kyle shut his eyes tightly and gasped from the image of Stan biting him. "Do it again. Harder."
"No," said Stan, "I'm working on trying to get your shirt off."
This was his cue, Kyle noticed. He let go of the phone, and let it rest on the pillow next to his ear, while he peeled off his shirt, and threw it across the room. "It's off. What about you? Strip for me, Stan." Kyle shook his head as he realized that his hormones were speaking too fast for his mouth or his mind to catch up. He had really just told Stan to strip. 'This is so fucked up. I can't believe this. Why are we doing this?' As Kyle opened his mouth to urge the two of them to stop, he heard Stan laughing on the other end.
"Anything you say, I'll do, Kyle," Stan replied. Carefully, Stan set down the phone, and then quickly ripped off his shirt, and the pants he was wearing. He tossed them into the laundry bin that sat across the room, and picked up his phone. "I'm leaving my boxers on, though. You have to take those off for me."
A growl echoed in Kyle's throat. "Dude, just take them off."
"Why do I have to do all the stripping? You take your pants off, then I'll take my boxers off."
"Fuck, Stan." Kyle responded angrily, as he untied the sting on his pants, and then kicked them off, onto the floor. "My pants are off. Happy?"
"No," Stan teased, and started to tug on the side of his boxers, as if Kyle could see, "The underwear has to come off too."
"Oh, for Christ's sake. I want them off. Now." Kyle snapped into the phone. "You said you'd do anything for me, Stan. They come off, now." Was Kyle really saying this to his friend? He liked girls, but this was… this was beyond fucked up. Now Kyle was practically raping his male counterpart over the phone? Kyle wanted to resist so bad. He wanted to hit the red 'end' button; to hang up, to end this.
Something was telling him he couldn't, and that was Stan Marsh.
Stan did as Kyle requested, and kicked off his boxers. This was an awkward moment for him, as he hadn't thought about what to do after this point. Stan figured that Kyle would have hung up by now, or begged him to stop. This was getting out of hand. "They're off," he said with confidence, "Now take yours off, Kyle."
An inaudible whimper came from Kyle's throat, as his free hand fumbled with the elastic of his underwear. His eyes shut tightly, and he slipped them off with slight difficulty, and kicked them off. "T-they're off."
"Good," Stan reassured Kyle, "Now, my hand's trailing down to your waistline. This will be the only time you can tell me to stop, before I'm unstoppable, Kyle. You wanna go through with this?"
"C-can we just skip the foreplay, and get on with it? I-I'm already…" Kyle said shakily, and the mock sureness in his voice was dwindling away.
Stan blinked a couple of times. "You just want me to fuck you?"
"Yes!" Kyle whispered loudly into his phone.
"O-okay." Stan replied, and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'm kneeling over you, and my hands are on your hips. I push you with my palms, to try and get you to flip over. " Stan subconsciously reached down and took his hard length into his hand, stroking himself rhythmically to his heartbeat. "What do you want, Kyle Broflovski?"
Kyle choked on his words as he pictured everything as it was being said, and shamelessly took himself over, acting as if he were Stan. "I want you… I want you to take me, right now, Stan. Fuck me. Now!" He hissed into the phone. His body shifted uncomfortably as he knew what was about to happen. There was nothing stopping either one of them now.
Stan bit down onto his lip so hard, he felt as if he were breaking skin. He heard the worried, innocent tone to Kyle's voice, and it only turned him on more. "Damn, Kyle. I'm leaning over you now, thrusting into you now… slowly."
A quick breath hissed through Kyle's gritted teeth. "S-Stan… I want you to go faster! Faster," Kyle moaned into the phone. His grip was becoming unbearably tight, and shaky, he feared he was going to snap the innocent phone in two. "Make me bleed, Stan."
"Fuck, Kyle. You're so… The feel of you is so amazing. You're-- ah, you're tighter than hell." Stan's voice became breathy, and he felt like he was going to reach his breaking point sooner than he expected.
"Nngh… Stan, I-I'm so…" Kyle cried, obviously not caring about anyone in the house hearing him, "Stan, I'm so close…! A-ah, S-Stan!" A final tremble of Kyle's body, and his seed spilled all over his hand, himself, and his bed.
The blood rushing through Stan's veins was running faster, and he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He heard Kyle hit his climax, and he couldn't help but hit his orgasm as well. "Kyle…," breathed Stan, "You're amazing. Can we try this when I get back?"
"S-sure…" Kyle whispered, and relaxed into his bed. The both of them were absolutely exhausted, and were nearly asleep, when Stan whispered into the phone.
"I-I love you." Stan warily admitted, and felt his face flush.
Kyle giggled, and pulled his sheets over his head. "I love you too, Stan."
[ finé ]
I would just like to say this is obviously not my best work. But whatever. :)