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Summary: You pay a hard bargain to be Super Best Friends and things were about to get way out of hand. "No, I want your dick up my ass before it goes up Wendy's vagina." Style.

Disclaimer: I don't any of these characters.

Relationship Status:

In a Relationship

Wendy Testaburger 1/30/10 Stanley Marsh

There was even a stupid heart after his name. "Who does she think she is? Stanley Marsh. Come on." I grumbled, glaring daggers into Wendy's Facebook. I met her big round eyes in her profile picture, the one where Catman's in the background doing a jacking off motion with his hands, and scoffed.

"She's his girlfriend, man." Kenny reminded me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he scooted his chair closer to mine; closer to the computer. I gave him a side glance, trying to remember why I even talked to him today.

"If you're going to be an asshole, just leave." He threw his hands up in mock surrender, giving me one of his crooked smirks.

"I haven't done shit, yet. You can kick me out once I start hitting on Ike again." My face twisted up in disgust as I clicked on the link that would lead me to all of Wendy's pictures.

"Dude, that's just gross. Honestly, every time you say that, I just picture him as a baby again."

"I like 'em older anyways." He laughed, winking at me. The corners of my lips rose a fraction, but as soon as the computer's sceen loaded, they plummeted back down. There had to be at least thirty pictures of just herself. One out by Stark's Pond, one in front of our old elementary school, a couple were at her house, and then there were some at Bebe's. She had some of her with her "BFF"s (that's what the captions said) like Bebe and Red. None of those bothered me all that much.

It was the ones with Stan that got to me, or rather the album. It was full of pictures of just the two of them. The ones where they were cuddling together on his couch, where she was on his back as he was giving her a piggy-back ride. She wore his hat in another, a flirtatious smile on her face. He kissed her cheek, or she kissed his in a few. It agitated me to no end whenever I looked at them. Half the time I wished I could just hack into her Facebook and delete all of them.

Every single comment was the same. "This is so cute!", "Adorable!", "Awh, you two look perfect together!", "You're so lucky to have him!", "Hes such a lucky guy!"

One after the other I got more sick to my stomach. This is what? The eighth time they've gotten back together since elementary school? Elementary school! "This is fucking ridiculous." Everyone knew just as well as I did how many times they've tried being in a relationship, and everyone every single time had to encourage it by spouting the same exact bullshit they did as before.

"Ridiculous?" Kenny mimicked, resting his head against my shoulder. "Maybe they're really in love." I knocked his head that had his unhelping mouth attached to it away from my body.

"They're not in love. And for the record, Stan hasn't even said that to her. He did when they were twelve, but only because he didn't know any better." Before the blonde could even ask why I knew that, I continued, "we're Super Best Friends, dude. I know everything about him."

"Then why don't you stop trying to virtually manslaughter Wendy and go look at your own pictures of you and Stan. I'm sure it'll brighten up your day."

"That actually doesn't sound like too bad of an idea. It'll be the closest I can get to him anyways, seeing as he's skipping out on me again, because hes with Wendy again." Kenny chuckled as I reworked my way back to my own Facebook page, and to my pictures with Stan. Not Wendy's. "See! Look at this!" I exclaimed, clicking on one of the photos to enlarge it.

It had been taken not too long ago during a time when the snow was heavy. Stan had set my camera up on a garbage can and put it on a ten second timer. I could remember how we hadn't thought of what we were going to do in the picture until the seconds started ticking. We took seven of those seconds trying to think of a pose, but once the three second light started flashing, we knew we were screwed. For some reason, right before the camera went off, I had lept onto Stan's back and smiled as widely as I could.

"I beat that bitch! This was my idea first." The childness of my statement hadn't hit me until I was typing in 'I just one upped Wendy's picture by a landslide' for the caption. "In a completely adult sense of course," I immediately added. Kenny burst out laughing, throwing his head back and slamming his hand down against his knee.

"You're fighting with Wendy over Stan, dude!" I tried my hardest to glare at him, although I couldn't help but snort. It was too true. Wendy was hogging up Stan, when frankly, I wanted him for myself. We were Super Best Friends. I shouldn't have to compete with her for him, but I was.

"There's nothing to fight over," I said, saying the opposite of what I was thinking. "Bros before hoes. Wendy's got nothing on me." Kenny gave me a skeptic smirk before standing up from his chair.

"Whatever you say, Kyle. But I think you need a break from your 'stalking-Wendy's-Facebook' time, so lets go to the coffee shop."


"The one and only."

Squinting my eyes, I stared at my blonde friend, scoping out what seemed so fishy about him. When he took his phone from his hoodie pocket, I grinned, closing out of the internet before standing up next to him. "Whose gunna be there?"

Kenny paused in the middle of his text and slid his eyes up to meet mine. A loose smile spread across his lips. "Butters."

"Hmm. Going after Butters, eh?" I teased, grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair.

"So what if I am?"

"Hey there, fellas." Butters waved. He was standing at the front counter of the small coffeehouse, one side of his hip resting against the marble wood surface. Tweek was on the other side of the register, giving us a teensy-weensy welcoming smile.

"I swear to god if he gets any cuter..." Kenny trailed off, giving his victim a high nod.

"Which one, Tweek or Butters?" I snickered.

"Both of 'em." Craig, who must have been kneeling on the ground, popped up next to Tweek with an armful of coffee cups. He let them fall onto the counter haphazardly. Both had an identical Tweek Bros. apron tied across their chests. "Never mind, maybe just Butters."

"Scared Craig'll beat your ass?" I mocked, sizing up the ebony haired teen. His height easily topped the two lithe blonde's, even as he hunched over to arrange the cups by category. I still couldn't get over the way he looked with his chullo off. It gave him a much different approach. He wasn't the usual kid I always remembered while growing up. It made me wonder who he actually was, with his lengthening, messy locks.

"When it comes to Tweek, hell yeah." Kenny shut up before we reached the counter then pulled Butters in for one of his signature hugs: your arms went around his neck, never around his waist unless he wasn't going after you or you were taller. He squeezed with just the right amount of pressure, creating a melting affect that made you want to stay in his arms for the rest of your life. You felt safe there, and luckily, Kenny loved staying in contact for a long time.

"What's new?" I asked Tweek, seeing as Kenny and Butters were in the midst of a snuggle fest. The blonde stared at me wide-eyed for a second before glancing at Craig as if searching for encouragement.

"With him or the menu?" Craig asked, finishing his stack of smaller cups.

"Tweek," I answered. "I hate coffee."

"H-hate coffee? Nghh. Shit, man. How can you say that?"

"He can say that because Wendy and Stan come here every Sunday," the tall teen answered.

"Way to be blunt." I muttered, narrowing my eyes to glare at him. Tweek frowned at my glaring, which I thought was oddly cute, and bumped Craig's hip with his own, causing him to avert his concentration to the blonde, every ounce of his attention on him.

"Get a blueberry m-muffin, please." The corners of Craig's lips twitched as he took the order and moved to pull one of the large, circular muffins with tons of streusel from the display case.

"Since when did I start taking orders from you?" He remarked sarcastically. Tweek's cheek's grew dusted with pink.

"I k-know you like the muffins- Gah!" He said to me. "So you can h-have it, no charge." A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I smiled thankfully at the jittery blonde. All he ever had were good intentions. He was almost as innocent as Butters, and I admired that.

"Thanks, Tweek, I mean really. I think I officially like you more than Stan now." The sliding glass door to the display case clanked closed, louder than it normally did. Craig's arm shot out, shoving the muffin, along with his middle, finger in my face. The icy color of his eyes was shadowed, giving me a chilling stare.

"Repeat that, Broflovski." Confused, I cocked my head to the side as I took my muffin.

"I like Tweek more than Stan?" The look in his eyes became shrill as it drug my imaginary body through the dirt. Now he was the Craig I always knew.

"Hes oblivious, dude," Kenny announced, reappearing out of nowhere. He and Butters were done hugging. I was aware of the feeling that Kenny's newest crush must have: the satisfaction of being the most comfortable you've ever been in forever, but the irritation that it's over. Everyone got it, every single time.

"I'm oblivious to what?"

"Just don't say that again and we're good, alright?" Craig warned, stepping closer to Tweek as he started rearranging the cups again. His blonde looked just about as confused as I did. Our eyes met and we both gave each other a what-the-fuck look.

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked Kenny, following him to one of the booths. He and Butters sat on one side while I sat on the other.

"I'd just straight up tell you, but I know how this shit works, so I'm just going to let you figure it out on your own."

"Don't worry, it's nothin' bad," Butters added, giving me a knowing smile.

"You even know?" My brows knit together as I brought the puffy, round top of my muffin to my mouth. The first few bites were always the best, because that's when I ate all the streusel. The sugar melted in my mouth the second it met my tongue, followed by the fluffy texture of the muffin itself. A small blueberry exploded when it crunched beneath my teeth, expelling sweetness.

"I love you, muffin," I cooed, shivering in my seat.

"I woulda never even thought anythin' 'til Kenny told me."

"Does anyone else know?" My question came out guarded, as if this were my deepest, darkest secret. Kenny chuckled, tapping out a soft beat against the table with his finger tips.

"Not everyone."

"Whose 'not everyone'?"

"Just a couple people. They'll figure it out eventually though."

"What are their names?"

"Dude. Do you really think you're getting somewhere with all these questions?"

"If you'd give me reasonable answers I would." I shot back, smirking at my friend. He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and sat back in his seat to rub his shoulder against Butters'.

"Yeah, not gunna happen."

"That's expected," I snorted. "How have you and Kenny been?" The petite blonde's bright, blue eyes scrunched at the corners as he smiled at me. It must have been one of the little quirks that attracted Kenny.

"Oh, we've been mighty fine. Nothin's really happenin' though. Kenny's actually been around a lot lately. He likes to keep me busy."

"Whatever gets him away from me is always good, so thank you," I graciously informed.

"Awh! Hes not that bad. Juss gets a little touchy sometimes." He giggled, not even realizing that all of those little touchys were about to turn into a whole bunch of big touchys. I wasn't going to say anything though. It was Kenny's place to corrupt Butters, not mine.

"I'm well aware," I agreed, ignoring the older blonde's stuck out tongue.

"How have you been, Kyle?" Butters repeated.

"A little bit all over the place, I guess."

"Because of Stan?"

"Were all my Facebook status's really that obvious?"

"'This has happened so many times, I think I'm starting to grow immune to it. I hate black haired couples.'" Kenny recited, letting out a smooth chuckle as he tossed his arms against the booth's back before slipping one around his victim's shoulders without actually being around his shoulders. Everything about Butters remained the same: his stature, face, emotions. He didn't even realize what had been done.

Sometimes I envied Kenny's sly moves. "Inconspicuousness is so adorable." I had an odd feeling that his statement had a double meaning, like he wasn't just talking about Butters, as he gave me a flirtatious smirk.

"It's true, though," I emphasized. "The amount of times they've 'gone out', if you can even call it that- because one and half days is not the standard time 'going out' lasts, is ridiculous."

"How about lets not get back into I'm-going-to-fuck-Wendy-up mode? Sound good?"

"No, it doesn't. I'm just getting started-"

"Aye, baby!" Every one's eyes in the vicinity locked toward the coffee shop's entrance. Clyde Donovan stood in the door's open gap, sliding out of the way as it closed. One of his arms was sticking straight out, finger pointing directly at Craig, his own version of a Super Best Friend's, direction. Thankfully half the customers inside the cafe were one with South Park High, so 90% of everyone understood the display.

The handsome brunette drifted to the side for a split second before he straightened back out, his customary, to-oggle-over smile sprawled across his face. "Just sit down, Clyde. Stop calling all the attention to yourself," Craig muttered.

"Sure thing, boss." The brunette's pooling orbs of mahogany sought out each face until they picked out Kenny. His smile grew wide as he made the connection and I willingly scooted toward the wall, knowing he would be coming for a seat. "We've got some business to attend to," he drawled out, snagging the space I left for him in a messy descent.

"We do," Kenny agreed. "Looks like you already got ahead of yourself though and started on it without us."

"I'm not that drunk."

"Try saying that one more time while looking me dead in the eyes without laughing," Craig dared sarcastically, planting his hands palm-down on the tabletop to rest his weight on them. Clyde sniggered, waving off the order.

"What 'business' are you guys doing exactly?" I asked, knowing all about their drug trades and what-not, sometimes I'd even take part in them when Stan was interested.

"E," Kenny replied shortly, removing his arm from around the booth to shove it into his pocket, digging around mercilessly. I silently hoped that he wasn't searching for the drug. Not in that kind of disaster that resembled his room. When he brought his hand back up, thankfully all that came out was a ripped up phone number with the words 'who cares' in his hand writing scrawled onto it, an empty condom wrapper, and his wallet.

"Ecstasy?" I asked to confirm.

"Yep. Alright, I've got sixty down for twelve," the dealing blonde took out a fifty and a ten from his wallet.

"Five for one? That's a good price."

"That's one of the perks of having connections." He smirked, now full of himself. "How much are you two throwing down?"

"Thirty-five." Clyde slid over his cash to Kenny.

"Twenty-five." Craig just set what he had onto the table, making no move to push it over. Butters kindly did that for him.

"Three for me, one for Butters, one for you, two for Stan," Kenny explained before pointing toward the other two.

"Three for me, one for Tweek, one for Token," Craig added.

Clyde said, "Three for me, one for Token, extras for girls."

"I've got plenty of extras too." Kenny nodded, counting the money one more time just to make sure. "Alright. Looks like shits going down."

"Why does Stan get two and I only get one?" I asked, knitting my brows together. Was this some girlfriend rule that I didn't know about? Anybody with a clingy, two-faced girl gets a better roll than their utterly loyal best friend?

"Because I'm not going to let you get a tolerance and risk your health even more like I am, now am I?" Stan's deep set voice had an instant-relief affect on me. Quite frankly, even if the reason I was getting jipped was because of the girlfriend rule, I wouldn't have cared because Stan was there now. His lean arms locked around my chest from the back of the booth as his head came to rest against my shoulder.

"I still don't forgive you," I grumbled.

"I told you a week ago that today was mine and Wendy's day," he chuckled, waving to Butters before placing his arm back around me.

"You still could have ditched her."

"Right here, Kyle." Wendy informed, not sounding the least bit offended. She was used to my attitude towards her, especially by now after ten years. I craned my neck back in the direction of her voice to see that she was standing in between Craig and Stan, her hand rubbing circles on his back affectionately. My lip twitched.

"Was she invited?" I whispered, going for a more quiet approach. My Super Best Friend's arms clenched me tighter. Knowing that that was a good sign, I sighed inwardly and relaxed my body against his hold.

"Its just you and me tonight. Shes got other plans with Bebe."

"What if she didn't have plans with them?"

"Relax, Ky. She made them after I told her."

"Good. She knows her place then." Sadly, I wasn't sure if I was joking or being serious.

"Let's grab something to eat really quick and look around a bit more," Wendy suggested, taking a step away from the group. To me, it sounded like an atrocious idea. Stan thought otherwise though, like always, and I felt his arms slacken their hold. As embarrassing as it was to admit, I already missed him.

"Alright. Go ahead and order, you know what I want." Once the black haired girl had her back to us, Stan's arms resumed their immediate hug. He nuzzled his nose against the side of my head, making my hat go a-skew. "I'll pick you up at seven. If you're in the shower when I show up, I'm dragging you out naked. You're not going to care once you're rolling anyways." He teased, referring back to the first time I ever did E with him.

"Shut up. That was one time."

"Yep. Butt-naked for five hours straight." There was no holding back the grin that locked into place on my face.

"You cant say shit. You were naked too."

"After you told me to." He rocked our bodies back and fourth, laughing quietly into my ear. I could feel my stomach clench at the same time my ribs suddenly felt like they were going to cave in. Once I was at home alone, I'd take the time to think over this extraordinary feeling and wish it would happen again and again. It became a usual routine for me; one that I loved.

"Seven. I got it."

"See you then, Kyle." He brushed his lips against my temple, placing a delicate kiss to the skin, before leaving me completely. It wasn't until he was out of the cafe with food and Wendy in hand that I realized everyone was looking at me.

"What?" I asked. "It took us years to get to where we are, so you all better be really fucking jealous." Oh, man. I could feel it coming. Kenny must have felt it also, for he leaned back against the booth and got comfortable. "Try doing that with your best fucking friend when they have a dumbass girl that hogs up all the space and is trying to steal your spot. 'Go ahead and order, you know what I want'," I mimicked Stan's wonderfully smooth voice. "Like hell she does.

"I know what he wants. She just thinks she does because he gets the same thing every single time. If he wanted something different, I'd know without him having to even say anything." My shoulders immediately slackened after my dispute.

"That was deep." Clyde mumbled, nodding his head. I prayed that that meant he was agreeing with me.

"Gah! Th-that sounds serious, man! Sweet Jesus! The tension's going to slice me in half!" Tweek shrieked, slamming the full pot of coffee in his hands onto the table in front of us. The dark liquid inside sloshed around, peeking out of the curved spout to dribble down the glass.

"Nice going, Broflovski." Craig muttered darkly, the look in his eyes heavy enough to crush my soul.

"D-don't let it- nghh! Don't let it slice me half, C-Craig!" The spazzing blonde lurched forward to clutch at Craig's apron. The split second those hands grabbed him, the tall teen's eyes morphed into a serene, caring hypnosis. He looked Tweek straight in the eye, one of his formerly rough hands trailing delicately up the blonde's frail neck before leisurely moving down to his exposed collar bone, just barely peeking out from behind his messily buttoned shirt.

"Find your center, Tweek." When the jittery teen's breath hitched and his eyes drooped, shoulders sagging, Craig allowed the simplest of smiles to meet his lips.

"We could be like that." Raising a brow I turned my attention to Clyde, seeing that he was talking to me.

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused. The brunette opened his mouth to say something then furrowed his brows, taking in a deep breath.

"Sorry. That honestly just came out. When I start hitting on jew-froed gingers, that's when I know Ive crossed the line. I need to go cool down before tonight." He stood up, wobbling on his feet. "See you guys later. Bye Craigy-poo."

Back in my room trying to to think if there was anything else I needed before Stan showed up, my mind became distracted. Stan. I was baffled by how easily my thoughts could drift and become completely entranced onto one person. Although recently when I thought about him, another person showed up shortly after. Wendy. She really did have to come along and ruin everything me and Stan had between us, didn't she? She stopped our movie nights, mornings before school where we'd just hang out at Stark's Pond, Thursdays after school when I'd force him to come to my Robotics meetings. Whenever she showed up, nothing was ever the same.

And in the end, it was always me who had to adjust to the changes. Stan always had her to grow used to. But to me, without him, there was nobody there to fill in his absence. A shot of anger hit me in the gut. Every time he replaced me so easily. Me and Wendy aren't even alike. How can she do that? How could he let her? Taking in a deep breathe, I ran a hand over my face, trying to wipe away any negative feelings I had for Stan.

"Ughhh." Both hands were going to work now.

Feelings. Feelings like the one I got when he did random acts like kiss my temple, or massage my back when he knew he'd roughhoused me too hard. The time he stole Cartman's ladder so he could scale the wall, and sneak into my room had really hit home. All he wanted that night was to tell me he knew who'd won the Science Fair because he wanted to see the look on my face when he told me it was me. That had been three years ago. Its already been that long and I still feel like this.

As much as I hated to admit it, it was easier to accept defeat when I was alone. I was jealous of Wendy. She harbored all of Stan's random acts of kindness when they were together, and it was extremely obvious. Every time they got back together I waited patiently, fearing the moment when my Super Best Friend would tell me the last thing I ever wanted to hear, that their relationship was forever. Up to this point it hadn't happened, and up until this point I tried repeatedly to force the selfish, ridiculous plan that the crazy side of myself had concocted to the back of my mind.

Time was cutting short, though. I was scared that tonight, when I'd be out of character with no sense of dignity or judgment, that my crazy side would find this to be the ideal moment its been waiting for: To come clean and admit something horrible and terrifying and haunting.

And really hated it when I circled myself into thought-holes.

A figure shot up in my doorway, their shadow looming over me. I shrieked, throwing my hands up to cover my face as if I could hide myself. My body collided with the wall behind me, knocking off a picture frame. It landed on my bedside table, obviously broken. Shards of glass scattered across my floor.

"Stan!" I bellowed once the figure became recognizable. The anger in my voice was enough to turn his 'oops' face into a blank canvas. "You fucking retard!" I immediately bent down, setting to work on cleaning the bits and pieces of glass up without cutting myself in the process. The entire middle of my thought bubble had disappeared. All I could remember thinking about now was how Stan found it so easy to replace me with Wendy and how Kenny's party tonight sounded like the worst idea ever.

"I didn't mean to scare you so badly," he apologized, stepping further into my room. He couldn't see me fuming so he didn't know that it wasn't safe for him to make another move. When he knelt down next to me, I elbowed him in the side to push him away. "Hey!"

"Don't touch anything!" I growled.

"How about don't shove me? I'm trying to help."

"How about not helping?" I brushed the splinters of glass off my hand and onto the desk, collecting them into a little pile.

"How about not yelling?"


Stan scoffed, standing up. I did the same, turning to face him. His expression was stuck between angry, confused and a little bit hurt.

"What the hell's your problem?" He asked, holding up his hands in mock surrender. I narrowed my eyes at him. Wendy, my thoughts roared.

"You're my fucking problem." Close enough.

Confusion began ruling over his other emotions. "I'm sorry about the frame, dude. Is the picture okay?" His hand slipped by to pick up the useless photo but I knocked it away before he could get too close. "Okay, Kyle. What the fuck? Stop being a bitch."

"I thought you liked bitches, seeing as you're always with Wendy." My raven haired Super Best Friend laughed at me. It wasn't his usual, meaningful laugh that made me smile, though. It was the one he used when he was angry.

"Why are you bringing her up all of a sudden? We've gone over this plenty of times."

"Because I can, Stan. I can bring her up whenever I feel like it."

"Okay." He said sarcastically, holding up his hands again. "You do that. Are you ready to go?"

"I'm not going." Thankfully my subconscious was willing to save me the embarrassment my crazy side was wanting to harness tonight. The raven haired teen pursed his lips together, watching me.

"Now you're just pissing me off. I didn't come down here to get bitched at. Lets go."

"No. Just go ahead and take Wendy instead of me or some bullshit like that," I muttered, bending back down to resume my piling of the glass fragments.

"So this is about her."

"Not everything's about Wendy, okay?" I informed, busying myself with pretend baby shards.

"When it comes to you, it is. You were fine earlier today until I went to Tweek's with Wendy. Now you're just sounding like you need to get laid." My actions paused at his last statement. Of all things to say, that's what he chose.

"Fuck you." Stan took in a deep breath and by the sound of it, sat down on my bed due to its creak.

"Just help me out here, man. I don't know what's wrong."

"Like I'd tell you." My words came out more as a growl. It seemed to surprise him for it took him a moment to answer. By the time he did, I was pulling my small trashcan over to empty the glass.

"Whats that supposed to mean? Am I the only one on the 'lets tell each other everything' treaty?"

"Obviously." My jacket sleeve-covered hand swiped over my desk a few times before what I said finally hit me. I dropped the trashcan and looked over at Stan. He was sitting on my bed, as I had thought, with his eyes locked on me. It was horribly noticeable how much my answer had hurt him. "That sounded really bad."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I stared at him, opening my mouth to explain what I meant, but it'd be even more ridiculous if I did. "Kyle." My name almost sounded like a whine coming from his mouth. "Super Best Friends don't just keep shit from each other because this is what happens when they do. So, thanks. Really." He stood up, jarring me from my silence.

"I-I don't know whats wrong- Its not that something's wrong! I just- I cant tell you!"

"Can I just go?" Stan asked, his voice coming out a quiet mumble. My eyes fervently searched my room for some source of courage that would let me say yes. But all I had were a bunch of memories that belonged to both myself and Stan. Everything was sucking the courage right out of me.

"No. I cant just let you leave when you're mad like this."

"I'm not mad. I'm hurt."

"That's what I meant," I replied with a wince, equally as quiet as he had been just seconds before. "Can we just sit down? Please. I can think things through and," I rammed my eyes shut, not believing what I was about to say, "I'll tell you." That seemed to jarr something in him, for he nodded his head then sat back down, scooching backwards to sit criss-cross.

My body followed in suit, moving in beside him. When my knee brushed against his, my inner strength disintegrated. "No, never mind. I should just tell you, because if I try and think things through, I'll lose my wit and wont be able to say anything."


"Okay?" I echoed unbelievably. "Can I at least have some reassurance?"

"I thought you didn't want to think about it."

"I don't, but just an 'okay'? Come on, man! That's something Craig would say."

"I know you're just stalling. Spit it out."

"You don't understand!" I cried. "This isn't just some stupid, little confession that sounds like a big deal to me but actually isn't. It's... I'm- I'm pretty up there with this."

"Then tell me so I can be up there with you." That had to of been the most stupid, worthless piece of shit I've ever heard, but it made my chest clench tightly and my stomach feeling as if it were shying away.

"I want you to have sex with me before you have sex with Wendy." You pathetic excuse for a mouth. I cant believe you just said that.

"You want me to shove my dick up your ass?" Suddenly, I wished I had just agreed to go out tonight. That way when it came out, I wouldn't remember any of it.

"No. I want you to shove your dick up my ass before you shove it up Wendy's vagina."


I blushed furiously. "It'd just be one of those connections that we'd have, you know? Like, I'd be your first everything and you'd be mine. I know that sounds really gay, but it's not like I've had enough time to prepare some awesome persuasive essay or something."

"Wouldn't it be weird though? Afterwards I mean."

"Only if you make it that way." Shifting, I sat up higher as if that would make everything make sense. "The way I see it, sort of, is that I know I can trust you. It's not like your just some fling that'll always give me the heebie-jeebies when someones about to touch me. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, of course. Its fine for you, but why me too? I don't want the heebie-jeebies, but just wondering." Here we go.

"I'm going to sound really selfish," I started, "but its my own jealousy. If Wendy got to do everything first..." I trailed off, trying not to imagine it. "I don't know. I'd be hurt, and pissed, and jealous. Its not just because I hate her either. I feel really weird and creepy for saying this, but I think I'd react the same way if it were anyone. I just think about how I've always been the first for everything with you. I was the first person you smoked with. We tried drugs together, we drank together, we played spin the bottle by ourselves for the first time, we got spedos that one year, you saved your first tooth until I lost mine then spent the night so we'd both put our teeth under my pillow. Fuck man, I just don't want Wendy beating me in anything. What are you doing?" I abruptly stopped my ramble to question Stan.

He was in the middle of taking his shirt off. As he lifted his arms to bring it over his head, I watched his muscles move beneath his skin, which seemed to be mocking me. His locks were knocked into disarray, falling atop his head in an incredibly attractive manner. "We're going to do some shit and whatever else you had planned." I choked, gawking at him with wide eyes. "Well, I don't want to have sex. Not with Wendy either. When I do though, I'll come to you first, no pun intended."

"What?" He smirked at me, moving to sit on his knees in front of me.

"What's wrong now?" Stan leaned forward until he was a hairs width away. "I thought you wanted this." His moist breath covered my lips with heat before he pressed his mouth against mine. I jerked away from him brashly, before thinking about what a fuck-nut I was for giving him a bunch of different signs, and leaned in quickly to give him another brief kiss, then separated from him for real.

"Stan. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know. You're the smart one. What do you thinks going on?" He teased, one of his hands brushing through my hair, working its way under my hat to lift it from my head. "Come on, Kyle, you know whats going to happen."

"You're supposed to tell me you want to fuck Wendy first, let alone have sex with me." I made a quick note of how awesome I was, even in this type of situation, for putting 'fuck' with Wendy, and 'sex' with me.

"I get where you're coming from. I've been a shitty Super Best Friend lately so I'll make up for all those movie nights and Robotics meetings with this. The feelings mutual anyways. I'd feel pretty lousy if some pervert touched you and gave you the heebie-jeebies. It was bound to happen anyways, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone bet on it. Believe it or not, Craig started it."

"What?" I squeaked, my voice coming out unbearably high. "Holy fucking shit! Oh shit! How long has this been going on?" Stan laughed at my reaction, covering his mouth with his hand for a second, before pushing me down onto my bed. I was so shocked, I couldn't even stop him.

"I don't know if you can handle the truth." He sniggered, shrugging my legs apart to siddle in between them. The reasonable side of me tried not to notice how casual he was being about this whole situation.

"You have to tell me," I ordered.

"If you take your shirt off, I'll tell you."

"What?" The word came out sputtered, not unlike before. "You stupid asshole," I ground out, refusing to acknowledge the pink on my cheeks as I tried to take my shirt off as nonchalantly as I could. Although when my bare chest was displayed in front of him, it was harder to come across as cool. Under any other circumstance I wouldn't have cared, even if we were naked and covered in peanut butter.

This time, things were different. I wanted to meet up to his expectations like Wendy could. Would it matter that I didn't have boobs? I surely didn't have the curves like a girl. My body was rougher, skin much less smooth. How much would the slight differences affect his feelings?

"When Craig hit puberty he started the bet." Stan explained, finishing his end of the deal.

As much as I wanted to exclaim my embarrassment, I couldn't hold back my other retort. "So when him and Tweek together? Five months isn't too bad." Although my words came out a bit breathless, for the position we were in was finally beginning to hit me. With a surge of boldness, I raised my arms to wind them around Stan's shoulders. His skin was incredibly warm. Or maybe it was just me.

"I see that I'm not the only asshole around here. That was a low blow," he snickered, leaning down to press his grin against my cheek, then my throat. I closed my eyes against the close proximity, tightening my grip. Our chests grazed lightly.

Stan pushed himself up, an arm on either side of me so I could see his smile. Truthfully, it was the most genuine smile I've ever seen on his face. It caused the weight of this entire day to crash down on me, and make me realize what Stan was willing to do for the sake of me. As I stared at his lips, finding them strangely enticing, I thought about what he said. The feelings mutual.

In the next instant, my hands were cupping his face, and I was pulling him down, capturing his lips in mine. There was no pausing to wonder what he was doing, because this time I'd instigated it. I could relish the softness and fluttery sensation they gave me.

One of my hands found his hair, running through it to find the nape of his neck so I could hold him to me. He reciprocated the touch as one of his own hands intertwined with my locks, tugging gently, luring me to him. My stomach caved in on itself until there was nothing there except a hungry black hole. I was fisting his hair, waiting for him to do something just so I could have one last reminder that I wasn't forcing him into this.

Stan's tongue traced a wet line along my bottom lip; my mind was gone to the world. I opened my mouth for his tongue. When they met, it elicited a happy hum from within me. I could distinctly hear the wet smacking sounds we were making and the hum grew louder. Part of me wished I could be loud enough that Wendy would just know what was going on.

My free hand clenched his shoulder subconsciously as his slipped down my chest, dragging across my stomach. If there were any organs left inside, it felt as if they'd been tickled. I wanted him to do that again.

His mouth didn't quite detach from mine but moved down, leaving a trail of kisses from my chin to my collarbone. Teeth nipped gently at the skin of my neck, leaving teasing, tiny bite marks that I could relish later on. With the attention on my neck, it was an incredulous feeling that made my mind reel when his hand, which had been sneaking about, pressed against the crotch of my pants.

"Stan," I mumbled, not sure if my voice was capable of going above a whisper, "I'm supposed to be doing this to you." That was the plan, wasn't it?

"Then stop being so cute and submissive and do something about it." I bit my lip to keep too big of a smirk from growing.

"Then get your hand off my crotch so I can roll us over, otherwise I don't think I can do it." His chuckle was the most seductive noise I believe I've ever heard in my entire life and gave me enough momentum so that when his hand went to my hip, I flipped his body underneath mine to straddle his hips.

"Smooth." He teased, rubbing circles along my side.

"Don't fuck with me." Craning my head down to collect his bottom lip between mine, I sucked on it lightly, ghosting my hands down his chest. He was breathing hard, causing the ridges of his ribs to outline his skin with every inhale. "You've never done this before?"


"Neither have I. We'll just go with what feels good then?"

"I sure hope so." He joked sarcastically, giving me a grin.

"So I just go at it?"

"I think if you just do it and don't think about it, it'll be a lot easier."

"Okay. So you just want me to-?" Both his hands were at my pants, one at my button, the other on my zipper. "Hey! What are you doing?" I attempted to slap his hands away, but with my button undone, his free one easily grabbed both of mine, stopping them.

"You're psyching yourself out, so just let me do this for you so you can do it for me."

"No! I thought you said you've never done it before." I wriggled my hands around, trying to jerk out of his grasp.

"I haven't," he laughed, "but I want to try, so stop moving."

"Stan! I'm supposed to-!" I choked on my words, feeling my entire body tense and stop moving. My eyes flickered up to meet his. He was watching me, observing. I was about to glance down to see if this was really happening, but there was a slight clench around length and I that was all I needed.

Letting out a shaky breath, I felt it quiver all the way up and out my throat. His hand moved up along my cock, back down almost hesitantly, then again.

His eyes calculated everything, catching all the little movements that happened just then: My eyes, for the first time, felt intoxicated, heavy. They fell closed a fraction, which only made the feeling grow stronger. My shoulders loosened, dropping me forward an inch. My breath went in labored, and came out just as so. My hands went slack in his grip.

What he couldn't calculate was the fog in my mind. I had no thoughts. There was a slight white noise in the air, but it made my ears feel good. The heat in my body was covering my skin with a veil of warmth. Slowly, I swallowed past a thickness in my throat that had never been there before.

His clenching hand moved around me again, arousing me further as he went the slightest bit faster. It was a change in pace that my body picked up on. My hands found a grip on his shoulders which I was thankful for, for the next movement he put on my body put my senses tumbling. If I let go, I might fall over. There was only one thing I knew: I wanted to kiss him.

When I leaned down to touch his lips, it felt like wind slipping through my being. It felt as if anything could slip right past me. That would've been wonderful. Although Stan's lips were solid and moist, and that was even better. There was another firm squeeze around my length that caused me to gasp against Stan's mouth. His free hand was at my backside, smack dab on my ass. It pushed me forward into him, into his grip. This time I moaned.

My head dropped into the crevice of his neck and shoulder, where I drug my tongue on his skin. He tasted of salt and I felt a great deal of satisfaction knowing Wendy had never made him sweat like this. My hips came forward again, then again, matching Stan's stroking hand. It was twice as good, sending my body through a whirlwind of I-don't-even-know-what.

Every time it occurred, it just as amazing as the last, and somewhere along the line it created a shaking in my knees. I choked on a moan but another one quickly covered it up. The static noise was belligerently blissful as the fog in my mind became a quick work of smoke that exploded into my brain. My toes were on fire, sending rivulets of sparks and flames of pleasure through my body. I dug my nails into Stan's shoulders, crunching their muscle between my fingers.

I saw nothing but white, visible heat as my hips met his hand another time, forcing my body to relax into a pile of jell-o on top of Stan's. I closed my eyes, allowing an unknown tranquility to wash over me.

The feeling was short-lived when I suddenly remembered Wendy. Stan just cheated on her with me.

Thank you so much to those who've read this (: