AN- After reading so much Style, I started to notice a trend: Kyle is generally made out to be the less dominant one in the relationship. Seeing as Kyle's the one with the temper and Stan's the hippie who loves animals, I have a different view point on how their relationship would be. Btw, the guys are in their senior year of high school in this fic. Enjoy and please review! I love to hear what people think!

(btw, I do not own South Park in any way, shape, or form. It's all Matt and Trey's).


On Top


It had been over a year now since Stan and Kyle's relationship was made public, and Stan couldn't be happier. The pair had initially been worried about coming out to everyone: between Kyle's mother, Stan's father, and their mutual friend (if you could call him that) Cartman, they thought that they could never tell anyone about it. So when Cartman posted photos of the two of them kissing in the movie theater, he had actually done Stan and Kyle a favor.

Stan was actually surprised at how well everyone took the news: all of their parents except Sheila seemed to have seen it coming, and they got over it within a few days and a few glasses of whiskey. Stan was more than a little pissed that Wendy, of all people, had started a betting pool on when they'd come out of the closet, which Cartman of course won by cheating. Even Chef came to tell them that making sweet, sweet, love was never wrong, as he kindly worded his sentiments in song.

Since that day, the super best friends were closer than ever. Stan didn't have to deal with Bebe hitting on Kyle any more, and the sex was incredible. Cartman's asshole antics quickly fizzled to background noise, and Kenny would make lewd jokes about them which also quickly fizzled to background noise. Stan no longer needed to keep his relationship secret, and it was the best feeling in the world.

Of course, Stan still kept one little secret. With Stan being South Park's star quarterback and hockey player, everybody simply assumed that he was the dominant one in the relationship. Not that Kyle wasn't manly, because he most definitely was: Kyle himself had won several chess tournaments and was a star basketball player. It was just that his lean body, Jewish features, and overall nerdiness lent him a more bookish air.

Nobody would expect that Stan, the athletic and protective boyfriend, was easily overpowered by his slightly anorexic-looking boyfriend. However, Kyle was simply an animal in bed. Stan was forever grateful for the steady stream of mind-blowing orgasms, but his manly pride felt a little bruised. Stan would never mind screaming out Kyle's name in wild abandon as he came hard and fast, but also wanted to be the one making Kyle scream. It just wasn't in Stan's nature to be rough however, and he didn't feel as comfortable pinning Kyle down as Kyle did to him.

Currently, the two boys were hanging out in Kyle's room as Stan mulled over his thoughts. The two had been playing video games, but had grown tired of Street Fighter and had instead opted to make out. Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski were out watching Ike's recital, so Stan knew where this make out session was headed. He decided to nip things in the bud.

"Mmm… Kyle," He half-spoke, half moaned, "Kyle, hey."

Kyle, who had been busy sucking on Stan's neck, looked up. "Yeah?"

"Can… can we stop for a second? I wanna talk with you." Kyle's eyebrow shot up, but he said nothing as he rolled off his boyfriend.

After no explanation was forthcoming, Kyle frowned. "What up, dude?"

"Look… It's just- ah, this is… Well…" Stan stuttered, suddenly feeling stupid.

"Just tell me, man, don't worry" Kyle coaxed.

"I…I wanna be on top, dude!" Stan finally blurted out, a little angrily.

"That's what this is about?" Kyle chortled. "I thought there was something serious you wanted to talk to me about. Geez, way to make me worry."

"This is serious dude!" Stan ground out. "I don't like it that you're always on top. I want a turn too, it's only fair!"

"It's only fair? God, Stan, you're such a pussy." Kyle replied offhandedly.

"I am not, a pussy!" Stan angrily shouted, astounded at his boyfriends' asshole behavior.

"You aren't?" Kyle asked, a devious glint in his eye, "Then show me,"

Stan went from angry to slightly confused. "Show you? What the fuck does that-" Stan could say no more as Kyle's lips hungrily descended over his. Kyle pushed him back down to the bed, and Stan angrily growled into the redhead's mouth, kissing back. There was no way in hell that he was going to let the shithead get away with his usual antics.

Instead of letting Kyle take over Stan angrily pushed back, and after a long struggle had Kyle pinned against the bed. Stan immediately went on the offensive, ravishing Kyle's body as he touched, kissed, and licked as much skin as possible. Kyle was still fighting against him, but seemed lost in a haze of pleasure.

"Nggh, god," Kyle moaned out as Stan thrust his body against the redhead. "Wont't, ahh-hh, let you win." With that, he started his struggles anew.

Stan saw red. "Shut the fuck up Kyle!", he hotly responded, pinning the redhead's arms above his head in a steely grip. "You're going to beg for me to fuck you when I'm finished,"

"Oh god, yesss," Kyle hissed, arching up into his boyfriend.


Page break, in which Kyle and Stan have ridiculously hot and steamy sex.


Two hours later, the boys were sprawled across the bed, exhausted. One of Kyle's arms was still tied to the bed post with the soft fabric belt from his bathrobe. The other hand's restraint had come undone at some point or another, and neither boy had given a damn. Stan's head was resting on Kyle's chest, his body placed snugly between the redhead's legs. Both were panting heavily.

"Oh, my, fuck-ing, god." Kyle said, huffing between each syllable. "That was, that was…" He trailed off.

"I know," Stan gasped out. Both boys were still trying to recover from their earth-shattering orgasms. Stan felt a little weak and woozy, and he could feel Kyle's legs quivering beneath him.

Both laid there in silence for another few minutes to properly catch their breaths before daring to speak again. Kyle nuzzled Stans face, deleriously happy. "God Stan, you don't know how long I've been waiting for that."

Stan sleepily began to shake his head before processing Kyle's words. "Hmm… Wait, wha-? Fuck you, Kyle, you fought this as hard as you could!" Stan tried to put some anger into his words, but just couldn't. The sex-induced stupor didn't allow him to do much more than lay there and drool.

"Of course," Kyle returned hazily. "How else was I going to get you maul me?"

"Wait, what… You wanted me to attack you?" Stan asked. Now that he was coming down from his sex high, he was beginning to feel bad. "But I-I gave you bruises man… I hurt you." The last statement was said with such honest pain that the jewish boy winced.

"Hey, hey! Hold on there!" Kyle said, gently lifting his face. "Did I look like I was in pain?"

The black haired boy bit his lip. "No… But-"

"Did I sound like I was in pain?"

Stan weakly smiled. "You sounded like a fucking alarm went off," He joked.

"Hey! Fuck you," Kyle playfully responded.

"Just did."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"I thought so, too." Stan responded, feeling better.

Kyle glanced at his boyfriend. "It's just… Stan, I like it when you get a little aggressive with me. I know you're not exactly into it, but it turns me on. I'm sorry that I riled you up, but you always seem to reign yourself in."

Stan smiled sheepishly. "I was kind of afraid of hurting you, dude. You know me, peacey hippie and all."

"Yeah, yeah," Kyle brushed off. "Well, don't be." The two enjoyed a slow, relaxed kiss.

All of the sudden the two heard quick, heavy footsteps. "You gahys, you gayhs!" Cartman called out. "I've got to show you somethi-"

"STAY OUT, FATASS!" Kyle shrieked as Stan hurriedly tried to pull up the covers. However Kyle's shout (as usual) went ignored, and Stan wasn't quick enough.

"You've got to come look at this- OH MAH GOD! MAH EYES!" Cartman shouted, turning away. "MAH EYES! I'M BLINDED!"

"Your own fault, fatass." Stan said, having finally pulled up the sheets.

"MUST WASH EYES WITH SOAP! REMOVE THE HORRIBLE FAGGINESS!" The fat bastard bumped into the wall a few times before finding the door once more.

"Damnit," Kyle said, cheeks burning as he started to undo the tie on his arm.

"Well, hellooooo," Kenny said, casually strolling in. Stan covered his face with his hands.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Ken?" Stan asked, monotone. This was it, his life was officially screwed. Kyle hastily finished undoing the tie.

"Oh, you know. Cartman dragged me over." He looked at his two friends with a shit-eating grin. "And bondage, you guys? Kinky."

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to hold back his temper "I'm only telling you once: get the fuck out of my room, man."

"Sure, no problem," Kenny returned, and walked out. Before leaving, he turned. "Hey guys, do you mind if I watch some time?"

"OUT!" Both of them shouted in unison.

"It was worth a shot," Kenny laughed as he went back downstairs.

Kyle fell back onto the bed. "Well, shit."