Disclaimer: I own nothing

Pairings: Stenny, Kyman (Implied), Clutters.

Warnings: Unbetaed, language, mature content.


Common Goal

His voice hides a tint of playfulness as he considers how to move forward with his case.

"Stanley, do you know what folk wisdom is?"

"Do I want to?" I sigh and rub a hand across my face dramatically. It is far too 'nighttime' to do this...

A chuckle answers my rhetoric question as he waves his last client of the day goodbye. He stands up, knees almost cracking in protest, and starts organizing his instruments poorly before his charismatic gaze returns to me, dead set on getting his way "My point is the following. There will be moments in your life-" Nothing good can come out of a sentence that starts out like that, seriously "-when you'll find yourself second guessing every relationship you have with the people around you" He pulls off his latex gloves and throws them near the small trashcan that stands next to him. Note the use of the word 'near'.

"You'll mistrust your friends, your bed-mates... you might even doubt your own mother" His smile returns and I can only raise an eyebrow at him in skepticism, because no one should be able to make a case out of an argument this stupid "But thou shall always, always trust your tattoo artist"

I roll my eyes and click out of my spider solitaire game on Kenny's laptop casually, almost too ready to leave. "So what you're saying is, I should really just lie down and let your draw whatever the hell you want on my back with permanent ink?" I say, staring at the laptop's wallpaper that, of course, has the photo of a naked chick on it. "But I can't ask nor look at it until it's done and there's nothing I can do about it"

I'm failing to see what's so funny but yeah, he's laughing again. "Pretty much"

He was serious as fuck. As in- not fucking joking.

"…Because that is a totally normal thing to let you do"

"Oh come on, who knows you better than me?" He packs his bag and starts getting ready for us to go home. "Do you really think I'd do something that would make one of my closest friends hate me for life? I have to say, I'm kind of insulted" He walks to the back door and locks it, shutting off the lights in the process.

"Don't play that game, Ken" I chuckle under my breath and shut his laptop off to help him close the place up. "It's not like you're asking me to let you paint my nails or something. You're asking to tattoo me"

"So that's it. You don't trust my art skills." He exclaims, insulted, as we walked to the entrance.

"What I don't trust is that you will keep yourself from carving a giant pair of breasts on my side"

"I wouldn't do that!" This is the same jackass who put my name and picture, along with my actual phone number on a lame dating site as a joke. To this date, I still get creepy-ass e-mails and text messages from lonely old geezers thanks to him.

I halt right before we reach the door to look at him for a second, trying to see if he actually believed what he just said "OK, I totally would" He laughs and I start walking ahead of him, not surprised at all "But, dude, not to you!" He yells behind me and locks up the shop hurriedly so I don't leave him behind.

"Why do you even want to do it?"

"I've been tattooing for years and you, my freaking roommate, don't have a single dot of ink on your body. How do you think that makes me look? Besides-" He smiled "You'd look hot with a tattoo. It'd go well with your- skin tone" Man… if he didn't have me eating from his palm before, 'It'd go well with your skin tone' undoubtedly did it.

Sold.

Done.

Now I just had to let him do it.

I start the car once he's seated and keep from replying anything that will incite him to continue on with his rant. Soon enough, we're on our way back home and I'm trying to keep my eyes open long enough so I won't fall asleep and crash the car. It sounds a bit pathetic to be so tired when it's only Tuesday but it seems like I simply cannot ease into the rhythm of life that goes on in here. Months of convincing myself that I would eventually grow used to the big city now seem like time lost badly.

But that's me. My name is Stanley Marsh and I'm spineless coward, running away from home and hoping I'll finally do something about my life in NYC.

That is my dream.

However, what they don't tell you about dreams is that nine out of ten of them end up in the gutter…

Rotting like old fruit no one ever bothered to eat.

I was born and raised in the small, mountain town of South Park, Colorado. After graduating from community college, I moved away to opulent, glamorous New York City where I put my shitty degree in business administration to- well, no use whatsoever. I'm currently twenty four years old and recently unemployed. Work a lot to earn little has been my life style ever since I graduated high school and with my past job, I never expected to be able to live a five star celebrity kind of life.

Still, it actually surprises me how unable I am to keep something as simple as an apartment on my own.

-Which brings me to the person sitting next to me in the car. Kenny McCormick. He's been my classmate and friend ever since we were in kinder-garden and we've been sharing a small apartment downtown for about 3 years now. Kenny dropped out of high school at the tender age of fifteen after a pretty talented tattoo artist took him under his wing as his apprentice. I think it's safe to say that the only thing Kenny hated more than school was our hometown, so when I told him I was moving away because there was no way I would be able to pursue a career in business administration in South Park and not kill myself within the hour, it took him about a second before he packed his bags to come with me. After a couple of years of struggling with my miserably small income, he finally scored a job in a small tattoo parlor and is earning quite a bit more than I ever did since the owner of the tattoo parlor pretty much left the shop to Kenny while he was away on- he said busyness but I don't know if believe it 'cause it's been a month and a half since we last saw him.

The difference between me and Kenny, though, is that he's been broke all his life so he definitely didn't mind it as much as I did. We have enough to eat and buy random shit every once in a while, but things are obviously not as easy as they were back home.

And I got fired about a week ago from the shitty insurance company I was working for so it's safe to say my mood hasn't been it's brightest.

We get home in about fifteen minutes and luckily for me, it seems like Kenny is ready to drop the subject at last. He's quiet even as we ride the elevator and enter our 'too small for two people' apartment that is possibly even simpler than simple. We have a kitchen that's pretty much just a corner of the living room where the floor wasn't carpeted with a poor excuse of a table to eat in, a fridge, a sink, a microwave and a very questionable oven.

There's a door on the side of the living room that marks the entrance to my bedroom and another one on the opposite wall that marks Kenny's. There's one bathroom and it is on my side, so whenever he takes a shower, everyone who happen to be hanging out at our living room gets a long sight of a half naked and wet Kenny after he showers. Not that he minds much, if were gonna be fair. We flipped a coin for the room after all and that small victory counts as all the luck I've had since moving here.

"Hungry?" He asks as he drops his bag on the floor near the kitchen counter, moving around the room to plop down on the couch and turn on the TV.

"Yeah" I answer and hang my keys on the handmade hanger Kenny's latest ex boyfriend made for him. Man, that guy could have given Mr. Slave a run for his money. I don't even think he should be allowed to say the word 'man' out loud without embarrassing himself. He was the kind of guy who calls hanging around women 'girl time'… that's all you need to know "I'll order pizza"

"No onions" He calls out as I reach out for my cell phone, pulling out one of his magazines. I still don't get why he buys those when he's the one who pays for the internet and has pretty much all the access to porn sites he wants. Instead, he was leering at the picture of a guy who looked about twenty-something but was probably Hugh Hefner's age in our time -'cause that's just how old the magazine was-, wearing nothing but a tiny sailor suit.

It was tacky enough to make me cringe.

My friend Kenny is- I'd say bisexual but it just doesn't feel like the word would cover it properly. Kenny is the kind of person who will fuck anyone and everyone who'll let him do it. Girls, guys, hermaphrodites, white people, black people, Latin people, Asians, Christians, Jews, Muslims, Mormons, cougars, teenagers, etc. It was all the same to him, he never cared about the consequences of sleeping around and it only got worse when he realized that no matter how many sexually transmitted infections killed him, he'd always return safe and healthy back to earth.

To Kenny, sex is sex and us human beings should just be glad that we're able to do it.

Sure, the fact that he's nothing short of strikingly good looking doesn't help at all and I'm saying that in a totally platonic way. I might be gay, but I'm definitely not brave enough to let him get under my skin.

I'm just glad he sees me as a friend and not one of his fucks because I seriously don't think I could ever deal with his 'I'm a man on a mission and that mission is to blow your pants off' attitude directed towards me.

"Dude" I tense when I hear him murmur against my ear and feel his body heat radiating towards my back. "I'm still hungry" He says and I notice that I haven't been dialing any numbers the whole time my mind got lost in thoughts.

I elbow him in the stomach, the motion was weaker than I had intended it to be but it made him stumble back and curse "We've been through this, keep your distance" I growl out and he smiles at me, raising his hands up in surrender.

"Can't blame a guy for trying"

"You can blame him for trying too hard"

"Too hard indeed" He says with mirth glowing from his voice.

"Dude, just- shut up for the rest of the night please" I shake my head and turn away when more laughter erupts from him. It is at least another half hour until we finally get to order something and another thirty minutes until we were actually eating.

He's sitting next to me with cheese hanging off his lips when he speaks again "So- about the tattoo we were talking about"

"Apart from, 'I'm not getting it done'?"

"Jesus, can you be any more negative?"

I smile and stand up, making my way to the kitchen "Wow, you really don't know me at all, do you?"

My phone rings as if on cue then and I take a second to look at the screen before placing it against my ear, expecting the already desperate voice of a man who lost hope in the prospect of being happy at school.

"I'm just gonna kill myself. I have a toaster and a bathtub I'm filling with water right now. It'd be so easy" He says before I even greet him.

"Hey, Ky"

"I mean, building another career is not an option and if I have to see that idiot one more day-"

"And dying is the answer?"

"Well- living isn't much better, is it?"

"Just try not to kill yourself tonight. Can you do that?"

"He was trying to pass up flyers informing people about how much truth there was in Adolf Hitler's theory that the Jews were trying to take over Germany. Then he went further and claimed to know of a secret Hebrew organization that planned to do the same in America"

"Then, dude, why do you wanna kill yourself? In any case, you should kill him"

"I can't"

"Why?"

"My mom's gonna kill me if I'm a murderer, Stan" You can't even comprehend how funny it is to hear a guy his age say something like that.

"Then kick his lard ass until liquid fat comes out of his mouth. You'll be a bully… but not a murderer"

"…"

"Kyle"

"And that's why you're my best friend. Say hi to Kenny for me, bro"

Kenny smiles as I let my phone rest on the table and take another slice of pizza in my hand, joining him at the living room again "Greetings from Ivy league land?"

"Yeah" I mutter and carry on with our lazy movie night.

Quite the contrast to my best friend who has just been saved from self induced death, isn't it?

Our other two close friends had always been too smart to end up like me and Ken. Kyle is sharp and analytical, pointing out details and mistakes out of thin air in everything he did. Cartman is sly and cunning as no one I've ever met, like a politician in the making since the time of his birth. The former had been class president throughout all of high school and had nothing less than remarkable grades to back him up. With all the extracurricular activities he participated in as well as the reputation his father had as a lawyer, University was pretty much something granted for him. As for the later, well- everyone knows how smart Eric is, that's precisely the reason most people are wary of him.

With their background, it was only natural to think both of them would get into awesome schools and no one was surprised when they did.

…The problem, however, was that both of them got into the same awesome School.

Both Cartman and Kyle were now proud law students of Harvard University and Eric is still making my best friend dance around the brinks of insanity with every word he says. I can't tell you how much I freaked out the first time Kyle tried to say goodbye to the mortal world when he found out Cartman was gonna be a permanent pain in his ass up until he had his diploma in between his scrawny, ginger fingers.

But by now it's pretty much a weekly thing so I try to be cool about it.

"Don't you think you worry a bit too much?" Kenny asks and snatches the crust from my pizza with one hand, enjoying the crunchy flavor as I glare his way.

"Of course I do" My attention goes back to the screen where Transformers is playing "Don't you think you worry a bit too little?" I have no idea of why Kenny keeps renting Transformers. We've seen it at least twelve times.

"You know he's not actually gonna kill himself. It's just his way of despairing 'cause Cartman likes to be a douche to him, that's all" He chuckles at Megatron's lame joke as he rips Jazz in two and I roll my eyes, beginning to understand how short his attention span is "Come on, fagzy, hush and let me watch my movie"

"You've seen it more times than you've had sex, are you kidding me?"

"Dangerous statement you have going there" He wraps his arm around my neck and pulls me down to rest my head on his lap so I'll shut my mouth until the movie stops. I resist but give up after a few seconds, finding the pillow he placed in between my head and his legs much too pleasing. I make myself comfortable there and as predicted, it only takes him about five more minutes before he himself breaks the silence "See? I missed all of the good parts 'cause you can't be quiet about your little girlfriend" He pokes me on the side of the head with a pen and I smile, noticing how close I was to dozing off.

"Ironic little title you give him, isn't it?" A yawn makes its way out of my lips and I sit up straight again to keep from falling asleep.

Let me explain the irony before it gets confusing. You see, there was a time in high school when Vanilla and Strawberry used to be mixed into the same ice cream cone all the time. Rich and poor were never as divided as everyone likes to think. Cut and uncut used to play together at least eight times a week.

In clearer terms, Kyle and Kenny used to date.

"Ironic? Don't think I don't know who taught him how to do all the things he did to me, super best" Damn, the 'super best friend' thing should have died where it started.

-Meaning fourth grade.

That's where things take a turn and become uncomfortable. You see, being fourteen is always hard and it only gets harder when you can't figure out why you're not attracted to the same boobs you used to drool after just a day before. I used to spend entire afternoons wondering if my dick was dead for good or not because it most literally happened over night. One morning, I was wanking to a picture of Wendy's jugs and they worked perfectly fine and the next day it seemed like nothing worked in the least anymore. I guess I blame my hometown but after all this years, who cares anymore?

Kyle and I always shared pretty much everything about each others lives and as we both started getting curious, we also started getting pretty physical.

Yeah, you got that right. Before my two best friends decided to get together, he and I used to spend countless hours tangled in between my sheets, getting off in any way we found possible. We were like freaking rabbits in heat… it was almost pathetic.

And although it had been amazing while it lasted, my sex buddy going out with Kenny never really incited anything other than genuine happiness for them in me. I was never really jealous as much as I was scared of Kyle comparing me to him.

It probably sounds like dumb paranoia but I used to have this god awful and completely irrational fear that in the heat of the moment, Kyle could be screaming out 'Oh! You're so much better than Stan' and I would never even know about it.

That's why sex with Kenny is something I'll never even think about. It's weird enough as it is and I am not gonna be the one to close the creepy ass sex triangle we made for ourselves there.

"Anyway, he says 'hi'" I stand up and decide my eyes can no longer stay open "Dude, I'm going to bed"

"It's like- nine o'clock, granny"

"I don't care, I'm beat" I murmur and stretch a bit.

"'kay… Night, man" He calls out as I turn and go back to my bedroom, closing the door after me.

It gets draining to think about all the things that have gone wrong and unfortunately, it seems to happen almost every time Kyle calls. I start thinking about how nice it would have been to be the kind of child he probably is to his parents. Shit, the Broflovski residence is pretty much an extra large Kyle shrine with medals and academic trophies adorning every corner. Pictures of his graduation, spelling bee contest, junior achievement awards, of when he god accepted into Harvard and there's probably a spot above their chimney already, waiting for the graduation picture.

My parents never say anything about how I didn't make it into any great school like my theoretical Siamese twin and probably didn't really care now that I have my college diploma, even though I never put it to use and probably never will unless I'm literally starving to death.

Still, I can't help but feel like I let them down somehow.

My shirt falls to the ground with a soft sound and my pants soon follow as I walk to the bed, feeling just a little more discouraged about my future than I did while I was waiting for Kenny back at the shop.

Deciding to give up feeling sorry for myself, I get under the covers and seek sleep.

What wakes me up is not the sun on my skin or the smell of my roommate's pancakes from the kitchen. I wake up to the continuous sound of static coming from the living room.

"God" I mumble against my pillow and stretch out my arm to take the small cell phone from where it rests on the nightstand. I glare at the small '3:23 AM' message and resist the urge to roll my eyes because Kenny always forgets to turn off the TV before going to sleep and I always end up waking up to avoid us the gigantic bill at the end of the month.

"For fuck's sake, Kenneth" I push myself off the bed and take haggard steps towards the door, cracking it open slowly. My movements and responses are slow with fatigue and sleep but as soon as my eyes turn in the direction of the TV, my breath halts… and not because I notice it was on, like I originally predicted, but because I can't help but notice someone who is still hanging out there, not watching the television at all.

Or rather, I can't help but notice him and well- the one who was with him.

He's sitting on the couch, resting nebulously against the padded back with his head practically hanging from the upper edge as his focus is more than likely diverted from the fact that he can't possibly be getting any oxygen in his current position. Between his spread legs and kneeling on the ground is a girl that looks far too familiar to me, holding onto his thighs as she services him in a way that looks far too desperate and rushed for it to be a hooker.

My hold on the handle tightens and my eyes widen. None of this registers as the obscene show continues to play out before me. She moans around him and bobs her head faster, trying to make him reach his peak.

'Kenny's eyes are closed in rapture, hers are closed in concentration… of course they'd never-

His eyelids flutter open and that's when he feels someone else staring. His head turns my way in a second.

-see me'

My lips get dry in that single instant and I stutter a bit, grasping for any words I know of that will be useful to make up a valid excuse for me to even be standing there.

He, however, murders my growing panic with a lopsided grin and a military salute. I gulp once more and a sigh escapes my dry lips as I watch him turn his attention to her.

If I weren't seeing what was going on below his waist, I'd say he was bored.

'Why am I still watching?'

He arches his hips off the couch and makes her gag slightly but she doesn't seem to be complaining, only digging her fingernails on his thighs for support.

She's no good at it… his face says it all.

He returns his eyes to me and it seems an idea clicks on his head as he smiles again and pulls her away from her lousy job at getting him hard. I inevitably start noticing all the things I knew about him never took the time to admire. His shaggy blond hair, husky blue eyes and the light freckles that adorn his cheeks and shoulders never seemed quite so- appealing before.

Yes, I've said it. He's nothing short of gorgeous.

His hand guides her further down so she's working on his sack instead. My heart starts racing as he starts stroking himself while looking at me in the eyes, keeping his date in place so she sees nothing. I gulp again and attempt to take a step backwards to my bedroom where it's safe but my legs don't respond. My hand that is gripping the door handle feels hot and sweaty but it also stays immobile as the notion hits me.

He's not doing her… he's fucking doing me.

His hand slowly starts to speed up until he's unabashedly masturbating for me. I fail to notice just when it was that I started leaning against the door frame as I feel the edge of the wooden surface digging into my temple. My eyes refuse to leave him and my mouth refuses to close and I feel like a total prey at his obscene mercy. He goes from almost completely soft to rock hard and leaking in freaking seconds, pampering my ego with thoughts of how might be thanks to my presence in the room.

"K-Ken-" I beg. My voice is barely audible enough for it to be a whisper and there is no way in hell that he heard me but he still brings a finger to his lips and signals me to be quiet, later pointing the same finger down at the third party in the room.

Even if I'm physically not involved in this game at all, he has me panting- and heaving. Everything before my eyes starts seeming blurry and undefined. His hand speeds on his hard-on again and he lets out a long moan that goes straight to my crotch and makes me gasp desperately.

'F-fuck'

I turn around and slam the door shut, not caring that I just made my presence known to the girl in the next room as I rest against the wood and slide down until I'm sitting on the ground with my knees bent close to my body.

My hands go up to cover my eyes as if I could un-see everything I just witnessed.

"Was that your roommate?" I heard a thin voice speak, muffled by the door, and almost groan out in frustration, trying to will my excitement away.

"I think so" I heard him say, making the smile obvious in his voice.

"You think he'll get mad at you?"

He laughs and my legs straighten out before me, wobbly and weak at his voice. Instead of answering his question, he probably went back to his original plan because it's not ten seconds later that I hear her giggle and a few minutes later, she starts moaning.

You know you've hit rock bottom when you're sitting against a door, listening to your roommate have sex with some random booty caller in the next room.

I can't even help it when he starts joining her with the sex noises. My eyes return to my forsaken hard-on that's almost literally begging me for some attention. And Kenny's doing it on purpose… he's moaning that loud because he knows I haven't gone back to sleep.

He knows I'm listening.

"Shit" I mutter out as I realize my body is only heating up more and it's becoming unbearable "Shit" I let a hand sneak inside my sweatpants at once and I finally start jerking off furiously, trying to get it over with.

The sounds he's making in there, they're making me deliriously hot and I soon shut my eyes tight and let myself drown in them. My fingers dig into my carpet as I try to find any way to keep quiet. Stopping is not an option anymore and I'm slowly starting to resent my impending need to wake up and turn off the TV every night "Mh…" My head rests against the door and my knees bent upwards again as I speed up, reaching my peak dangerously fast. I bring my free hand up to my mouth and bite my palm to keep from screaming out my orgasm as it crashes on me fast and hard, sending waves of electricity up and down my spine.

They continue on for a few minutes as my aftermath leaves me satiated and boneless against the door. I pull my hand out of my pants and curl my nose up in distaste as the evidence of my acts stares back up at me.

When they are finally done, and boy did it take a while, I sit there and wait.

Wait for what, you ask?

I have no idea.

"Should I stay the night?" She asks, voice sugar coated and overly amorous. She's probably clinging to him while her aftershocks wear off.

"Sorry babe, I got to work really early" He sighs and I hear the sounds of clothes and steps "Let me call you a cab" He says and I frown, staring at the ground like it'll give me the answers I want.

'What the fuck did I just do?'

When her taxi arrives, he walks her to the door and makes her giggle again with something I didn't quite catch before closing the door and locking it. I hear the static of the TV stop and sigh, thinking he's just gonna go back to sleep.

And he does, but not before walking to my door soundlessly and mumbling "Good night, Stan"

I tighten my fists in balls at my sides.

'Fan-fucking-tastic'


"Morning sunshine"

"Mornin'" I grumble out as he lets a couple of pancakes slid down from his pan to my plate and pours syrup on them until they're almost drowning in it. I grab the newspaper and open it, skipping every announcement and merely going over the job offers.

"Job hunting today?"

"Yeah" I say, ignoring the fact that he's totally ignoring what happened last night because it's just so perfectly easy to do so.

"You don't sound all that excited" That's because I'm not excited at all.

"Ken" My voice gives him a signal that something's wrong and he looks at me for a second before walking over to the sink and letting his pan down. He's sitting next to me in a second, eying me carefully because he knows I whine a lot and the only times he is to be concerned is when I'm quiet about things. "Do you think… I'm a failure?" I raise my vision to him and calculate his answer.

It seems I've taken him by surprise because his eyebrows raise and his lips part like he would have never imagined me asking this "Dude-" He starts but I don't let him finish.

"I mean, it's not like I'm completely fucked up or something… it's just-" I watch him grow more and more confused and I decide I'll get nowhere with this "Forget it. I'm not making any sense"

"Is this about- last night?" He asks almost timidly and I smile at his tone.

"What? No… no" I muttered and shook my head "Really, it's nothing" There was no point in getting worked up about it "Though you did promise not to bring strangers home anymore"

"Tammy? She's not a stranger, you know her" He answers with a smile, distracted from the heavy note of our previous conversation.

I stop eating and look at him "Tammy? As in Tammy Warner, your fifth grade girlfriend? -The one that gave you syphilis?" My eyes widen in horror as I let my fork fall back against the plate soundly "Are you insane?"

He offers me a goofy grin that is supposed to calm me down "She's clean now"

"And you're taking her word for it"

"Relax man, I wore a condom"

"No, you didn't!"'I was right there, remember?'

"I wore a condom… after wards"

"Still not safe, Ken"

"It'll be OK" He stands up again and take my plate away, noticing I was probably not gonna eat anything else and walks over to the sink to start cleaning.

"How do you know?"

"She just came out of rehab yesterday, dude. They clean girls up in there"

"Rehab?"

"Yeah, for Sex addiction" I pinch the bridge of my nose at the irony "She was absolutely desperate. Why do you think she called me?"

"Oh, now that is just great" He laughed softly and rounded up to me gently, wrapping an arm around my shoulders from behind and pressing me against the back of the chair. I feel his hot breath tickling my ear as he speaks.

"Now don't tell me you didn't enjoy it. That's just rude to my ego" He whispers and my eyes flutter close in an instant.

'Fuck- how the hell does he manage to get me like this in a single second?'

"I thought-" I clear out my throat to get my words across in a normal volume "I thought we were pretending it never happened"

He chuckles against my ear and I feel something sharp pull at my earlobe gently, making me shiver "No" He says and dislodges the arm that secures me against my chair to rest his hand on my shoulder and trail it down my arm "You're pretending it never happened. I'm having loads of fun thinking about it"

"Cut it out" I turn my head away but don't move to stand up,

"You keep saying that like you don't even notice it's exactly what's got you into this mess in the first place" I gasp in surprise at his words and he leans further down from his standing position behind me until he's trailing soft kisses down my neck "You are such a cock tease Stanley"

"I don't know what-"

"Oh, you don't?" He brings his hand back up and makes me turn my head as much as I can to look at him "You think I don't know what you were doing in there last night?" He motions to my door with his head.

My phone rings and I all but jolt from my sit to my bedroom to pick up, leaving Kenny alone in the kitchen. I let the door close loudly and bring the device to my ear.

"Kyle?"

His voice is loud and controlled, like he's walking fast "I think Cartman jerks off to me"

"Dude, I really need to tell you something- what?"

"I THINK CARTMAN JERKS OFF TO ME!" He yells, panic evident in his voice.

"OK!" I sit on my bed quietly "It's ok, Just chill"

"I Fucking CAN'T!"

"KYLE, Take a second… seriously" I hear him gasp and then murmur 'no no no no no' to himself as he walks "Calm down"

"Holy shit" he sounds like he's totally out of breath and I hear the sound of a door closing, probably of him entering his dorm "Holy shit, man"

"What happened?"

"His roommate was out and I was going through his crap when I found a picture of me crumbled near his trashcan. He probably threw it there and missed"

I frown in confusion "You were going through his crap?"

"I needed to find some bills that would help my revenge and- dammit, focus STAN! That's not the point at all!" A few other sounds distract me before his voice sounds a bit clearer. He probably closed all the windows and sound escapes to have this discussion "He's masturbating to me!"

"How can you be so sure of that?" I ignore the sounds coming from the living room indicating that Kenny's leaving because there's nothing that I want more than keeping myself busy not to think of him "For all we know, he could be using it to cast a spell on you or something. Where did he get a photo of you?"

"I think he printed it form my facebook profile. He fucking printed a picture of me with glossy paper and everything"

"It still doesn't mea-"

"Stan…" He interjects with a voice that sounds a lot like a warning, meaning whatever he's about to tell me is bound to stay secret between us.

"What?" I ask after a few second where he doesn't say anything.

He lowers his voice down to a whisper "There-" He breathes out and groans in frustration, like he'd give anything not to say what he was about to say "There was…"

I press my cell phone tighter against my ear in curiosity "Dude, what?"

"There was- jizz on it" He barely whispers.

My eyes widen in an instant and I find my mouth to be completely dry "Bullshit" is all I can say that makes any sense.

"As in… spooge all over" When he says it like that it sounds just a bit gross, not to mention disturbing as shit.

"A-are you sure? Did you touch it?"

"Wh- NO, YOU FREAK! Why the fuck would I touch it?" His voice rises to yelling again and it indicates me just how mentally unstable he is becoming thanks to the fat bastard that won't leave him alone.

Apparently, it's not for the reason we all believed.

"Maybe it was hand cream or something!"

"He printed a photo of me to throw some hand cream on in later and crumble it, sure" I'm not helping him at all, am I? "What the hell am I gonna do?"

"You don't really have to do anything. You're not supposed to know in the first place"

"I guess…"

"Unless you want to confront him about it, maybe just- leave it alone?"

"Leave it alone? I'm fucking traumatized!"

"I know, man… but really, who he masturbates to is none of your business"

"If he's doing it to me, it is" He sighs and I can mentally see him running a hand through his thick, ginger curls "Whatever dude… I'll call you when I figure it out"

"Good luck" I say and wait until he hangs up before doing the same.

The apartment was completely quiet by then and it was obvious I was alone in there. I sighed and let my back hit the mattress once more, noticing I didn't tell Kyle about me and Kenny.

Not only did I feel like a bad friend for indirectly hooking up with Kyle's ex boyfriend, I also felt oddly used and that was ridiculously stupid considering nobody forced me to do anything. Until now, I always passed Kenny's advances as pure boredom… I never quite considered the thought that he might actually be attracted to me.

I guess it's a matter of proving a point.

And my point is, I'll die before I become another number in his little black book and I'll die before I can say that I've slept with everyone Kyle has slept with... Meaning Kenny, himself and I.

He is my best friend but that's just way too much stuff in common.


"Have a good day" I say and bow before exiting yet another store I really wish doesn't want to hire me. The point of looking for a job seems a bit nonsensical considering I don't really look forward to work at any of the places I'm visiting.

It pretty much reached a stage that I'm picking the lesser of two evils. Working makes me a little depressed but staying home and leaving only to buy groceries and sheets was becoming a fate a lot worse than just doing a bad job at something you hate.

I pull out my cellphone and smile before deleting the seven different images Kenny sent me as 'tattoo Ideas' because at the normalcy of his actions is undoubtedly refreshing. He sends me a couple more, side noted with the words 'I'll be here all week, just take your time and decide ;)'

It's not something odd to have me overreacting at something so when the possibility runs through my mind I actually take time to consider it carefully. What would be the worst case scenario? I'd have sex with my childhood friend who seems to be as attracted to me as I am to him, Kyle would get supremely mad at me for breaking bro code and would refuse to talk to me unless it's making me feel like a shitty friend for at least a month, Kenny...

Facing the worst case scenario- what would Kenny do after wards?

Do I want him to tell me it meant something?

Do I want him to act like it was nothing?

More importantly, am I ready to let him ink my back with something that could actually be a sign that reads 'Cock goes here' and an arrow pointing to my ass?


"You know I'm needing some help in the tattoo parlor and Ted's OK with hiring someone, you could always be the shop manager or something... if you were only able to swallow your pride"

"Isn't it bad to mix friends and business?"

"Stan, I'm offering you a job. You can't possibly be looking at it with ill eyes. Stacie can't manage shit, I was gonna fire her anyways" He throws another shirt my way and I duck before it hits my head "And dude, you know I'm a high school dropout... I'm no good with numbers"

"I'll think about it"

"Of course you'd have to get at least one tattoo... can't have my manager all cleared up"

"I'll think about it... less"

"Come on, do you know how boring it is that the closest thing you have to something fun drawn on your body are moles?" He looks at his reflection, deciding if he likes the new shirt he has on or not.

We're going out.

Or better said... Kenny, Butters and Clyde are going out and they're making me go with them even if I'm tired out my ass after spending eight hours trying to find a job. I still don't even get how so many of my high school classmates ended up stranded on New York. Four South Parkans on the same city... that's got to be dangerous.

"That's me, bland and proud of it" I sigh and watch him undress with cautious eyes. I don't even know what it is that makes every inch of his body so well proportioned to everything else. He's not muscular or even toned, yet he's not anorexic looking like he was when we were younger.

His hair wasn't particularly nice or even cut in an interesting way.

The reasons I was that outstandingly attracted to him were things I always knew were there. It was the way he talked when he wanted something from me, smooth and confident in his persuasion skills. It was the casual way his eyes lit up in stars when talking about the stupidest things that entertained him. It was the way he was looking at me right now, cool and controlled as he walks to the bed I am sitting on and smirks "You're not bland, Stan" He leans in an I lean back to get myself away from him.

Huge mistake.

I end up falling flat on my back and he hovers over me, not giving me a single second to object before my wrists are trapped at the sides of my head and his lips are descending on top of my own.

'Sweet mother of Jesus'

He pulls away in a second "You just try so hard to be"

And just like that, he's up and going to answer the door so that we can finally go have some drinks.

"Man..." I roll onto my stomach and cover my face with one hand.

After what I saw last night- it shouldn't surprise me that he turned me on this much my a mere peck on the lips. It seemed like a simple bat of his fucking eyelashes made the wood between my legs grow harder than steel and it was freaking annoying the hell out of me.

And I'm no longer a teen so I get the message quite loudly... I know my dick is begging me to have sex with him but there's a reason the human race is different from all other species and that's the ability to think things through.

That's what I'm doing... I'm merely trying to think things through.

When we finally reach the bar and I have a few shots of Vodka running through my system, it's easier to be in a better mood and direct my sexual frustration towards people I feel safer with.

Meaning total strangers.

I scan my eyes around the crowd and see Kenny talking to yet another girl a few feet away. Butters and Clyde are already making out next to me and everything seems to be fine. That's when I remember what they're doing in New York, they're escaping the redneck homophobes back home. I've talked to a few people so far and it's becoming hard to ignore Kenny's furtive glances whenever anyone comes up to me but it's nothing out of this world.

Not to say it's not confusing to have him glaring my way like that but it's not something I'll stress over yet.

I'm just glad there doesn't seem to be drama anywhere near me.

That's if I ignore Kyle's various text messages of 'I'm gonna man up and confront him' and 'I couldn't do it' five minutes later.

Just as I was answering the latest text, a voice called my attention. "Someone who looks like you shouldn't be alone" I hear and lift up my gaze to rest upon a pair of bright green eyes, almost the same color as Kyle's.

"Glad to hear that" I answer casually and the guy in front of me smiles. He's good looking, alright. Rich, chocolate brown hair and tanned skin.

If it shocks anyone, I'm not usually the one who initiates things when it comes to casual sex-

...or non-casual sex too, for that matter. I'm more like the pussy who waits for a guy to approach him before showing interest.

Hey, it's worked for me 80% of the time. Why change now?

"How about I give you some company?" There is no hesitation in my mind when I offer him the sit next to me because- I need it... no matter how much my roommate seems to dislike the idea of me getting some ass tonight, I really need to distract myself from his ass.

"Stan"

"Randall"

"Dude" I scrunch up my nose in distaste and his eyes widen in slight surprise.

"Don't like my name?" He asks incredulously and I laugh as I noticed the wave of discomfort only lasted a few seconds.

"That's my dad's name" Is my honest answer.

"Wow...that is actually kind of gross" Doesn't keep him from ordering a couple more shots for the both of us.

"It's also my middle name, if it helps any"

"Curious... my middle name is Stanley"

It's my turn to widen my eyes "Really?" I ask.

He chuckles and shakes his head "No"

I move closer to him, already liking his sense of humor.

It's not like I get to decide whether he'll be the one I release my sexual frustration on or not cause it's not a second later that I feel an arm around my neck and a tug until my back is resting against a hard chest.

"Cheating on me, babe?" 'Shit, Kenny' "It's like I can't even take my eyes off you for a second" 'What the fuck is he doing?'

The speed 'Randall' moves away in makes me imagine the glare Kenny must have been sending his way and I turn to my blond friend in aggravation "What's wrong with you?" I ask, curious and slightly irritated.

His answer sounds heated and I can tell he's not pleased "What do you think you're doing?"

It immediately rubs me the wrong way that he sounds so stupidly possessive.

"What do you think you're doing? You totally cock-blocked me there"

He shakes his head and pulls me to a standing position "You were gonna have sex with him?" his accusing, slightly mocking tone makes me glare at him.

"Maybe" I defy.

"Really?" He continues and gets up in my personal space.

"Yeah" I push him away hard and watch him stumble back a couple of steps before he lets out a sharp breath, accompanied by a small titter before charging back at me.

Only this time it's to fucking devour my mouth with his.

His arms lock around my waist and I can help but raise my hands to his neck, licking and kissing- and sucking- and biting everywhere and anywhere I can reach because -God- His whole being is making me think of nothing else but how much I want to shag him... or vice versa. Anything works for me at this point.

His hands move to my back and lower, grasping my ass and groping me shamelessly "You're fucking driving me crazy, you know that?" He murmurs against my ear and I can only moan wantonly at his words because -damn- he feels so right against me.

I shiver uncontrollably as he pulls at my earlobe with his teeth again and kisses down a trail from my ear to the base of my neck.

I'm almost about to lose my head when my phone vibrates against my thigh again and I'm painfully reminded of who I'm doing this things with "Kyle" I say and he stalls, confused and about to yell out 'Not my name, Stan' for a second before finally understanding.

His hand grips my arm when I start pulling back and the desperation in his voice makes me tremble in desire "For once, just don't pick up" He murmurs.

I shake my head and manage to get away from him in time before Kyle hangs up, answering the call "Kyle" I almost yell into the phone cause it's really fucking loud in there.

Kenny's eyes go dark but I ignore it and turn in the direction of the exit.

"I just... I can't believe it Stan"

Paranoia washed over my like a freaking waterfall at his words even though I couldn't think of a single way he'd find out about Kenny and I without someone else telling him.

I exited the bar in record time and gulped as I was finally on the streets, leaning against a lightpost in shame. I brought a hand to my face and frowned.

'Shit...' "Dude"

"I talked to Kenny and-" He doesn't continue but he doesn't really have to as I know perfectly well what he's about to say.

'Motherfucking shit... this is exactly WHY you don't fuck around with your best friend's exes'

He's being too quiet about it and that is always a bad sign with Kyle because he usually always has something to say about everything "I know you probably want to discuss it but I- I don't really know what to say" I say, honestly.

"It's bad..." Is his shy answer.

My eyes squint together tight "I know"

"And it's impossible not to be mad about it... I'm- disappointed"

"Jesus" I sink into the ground to sit on the sidewalk -something VERY unwise to do in NYC streets- and almost hide my face in shame, even if he can't see me "I... understand" I usually take big pride in being a really good friend, so you'll understand why I feel like total scum right now.

"We can work through it, though... Can't we?" He sounds insecure and it confuses me a bit but I'm not about to question his motives.

"Of course we can... if you want to" I sigh slightly in relief but I'm feeling no better about myself "Dude, I'm so sorry"

He takes a moment "You're sorry?" It almost doesn't sound like a question "Why?"

"I didn't even talk to you about it first" I tried, god knows I tried talking to him about it.

"Well... there's no real way you would have known when to talk to me about it. Don't be sorry- I'm the one who did him"

"But he was your boyfriend at the time and I just- I don't know how much you've heard but I swear we didn't even do anything that serious"

He doesn't answer for about a minute and I imagine he's deciding whether it really bothers him or not "Stan... What are you talking about?" He says instead.

I frown "Kenny and I-"

"What's with you two?"

"You said you talked to Kenny and that you were disappointed" He didn't follow me and I misinterpreted it as him playing dumb "That we're kind of- about to make our relationship a bit more- hold on"

"Wh- You're having sex with Kenny?" My eyes widen as he over enunciates every word "Since when? Wait, why didn't you tell me?"

'Did I just screw up big time?' "Isn't that what you talked to him about?"

He takes a sharp breath in and I literally hear him fidget "...yeah" He says at last "That is indeed what we talked about" He stops again and takes another minute before continuing "It's cool man, I can never be that mad at you for anything. Besides, it's been years... I don't mind"

I frown again and stare at my cellphone.

'What?'

"Kyle-"

"I got to go, I'll talk to you later"

"Wait, you didn't tell me what happened with the Cartman issue"

"Later Stan!" He hangs up and I'm left flabbergasted, sitting on a very hazardously dirty sidewalk.


That's how I end up working for Kenny at the Tattoo shop... and that's not the biggest news.

When I decided to work for Kenny and thought getting a tattoo wasn't a big deal as long as I could cover it up with clothes, I later regretted how much I didn't take into account that getting a tattoo hurts like a total bitch.

Other than that, it actually surprises me how wild and spontaneous I'm being about the whole ordeal but the outcome might have just been a result of Kenny's mockery.

I know I tend to blow up things out of proportion but getting a tattoo is usually a pretty big deal, isn't it?

Anyway, it's not like it matters anymore.

"Stop whining" Kenny laughs as I bite on my knuckles hard enough o make them bleed and try to stay as stationary as I find possible "It'll only take a few more minutes"That's what he said a fucking hour ago and here I am.

'Why did I let him do it? Why?'

I grimace and shift a bit for the hundredth time, causing him to laugh yet again "Man, you're worse than a girl. I usually hate this kind of client"

"You said it was gonna be a fish" I unabashedly complain at him, feeling downright pathetic.

"A Koi fish"

"So?"

"They're not really the size of a gold fish, you know? It's got to be big"

"It's gonna take up my whole profile!"

"Yeah, it'll look awesome"

"Didn't' you say above the ribs and on the side was the most painful part of the body to tattoo?"

"To my knowledge"

"Then why are you doing this to me- aaahh, fucking hell" I bury my face in the small teddy bear he gave me to use as a pillow. Why he has a teddy bear in a tattoo parlor is an unknown factor I'm perfectly fine ignoring.

"Almost done, babe" He digs his pen-needle thing into my side once more and a few minutes later and when tears of effort are pooling at the corner of my eyes, he stops.

"Please tell me it's over" I plead.

"It's over"

"Really?"

"Yeah, lemme clean it up and you can see" He passes a cool cloth over the overly sensitized area, soothing the red skin a lot more than I thought possible and helps me up gently.

"Battle won, trooper" Alright- Hate that word.

"Shut up" I smile and he shrugs, walking me to the mirror so I can take a look.

My smile only widens as I take a look at it and it's actually a nice image. It indeed, is, nicely detailed on my side a a little below the ribs and slightly curved to the front of my body. The colors pop out incredibly and if I knew just a little more about art, I'd take the time to describe things better but I don't, so let's leave it at that.

It's a Koi fish, you get the picture.

"Looks great" I compliment.

"Told ya" He sounds confident.

"I don't understand something though"

"What's that?"

"Why didn't you just tell me you wanted to tattoo a fish on me until you were half way through it? Part of the reason I didn't want to get it was that you didn't want to tell me what it was gonna be"

"Because you wouldn't have done it if I explained the context and you would have asked for the context, I know you"

"The context" The raw horror those word stirred in me made me already want to kill him.

Repeatedly

"Yes, the context" He answers and takes off his jacket. 'Why's he taking off his jacket?'

"Kenny- be careful with what you do, I'm still a jock under all this depression eating at my bones" I warn.

He smiles and tugs off his shirt smoothly, once again offering me a view of the only tattoos I see up close that haven't been done by him. For a tattoo artist, he doesn't have a lot done. He's got a tribal back piece that covers him down to his shoulder blades and a couple of other designs I never took the time to analyze on his arms but that's about it.

No, hold that thought, he's got another one.

Right on his side on the same fucking spot he drew one on me...

You guessed it, it's a Koi Fish.

"Please be joking"

"Come here"

"I'm a centimeter close to chopping your head off"

"Then hold the murderous thoughts and come here" He beckons me with a hand and I exhale loudly, walking to him and the mirror again. He looks down at me and suddenly takes my arms and wraps them around his neck, pushing his chest to mine, throwing his own arms around me and looking towards the mirror.

I assumed I had to to the same.

What I encountered on the reflective surface made a piece of me die inside.

And it's not just because the sight of two adult men standing there shirtless, hugging and staring at the mirror at the same time looks completely retarded but because I finally understand what he meant with 'context'.

His Koi fish has it's head down on his hipbone, mine has it's head up on my rib cage and whereas mine curves up to the chest, his has it's tail curled to his back.

"See? They form a heart shape when you put them together"

"Oh my god" I groan out and push him back hard, making him fall flat on his ass while he laughs at me.

"It still looks cool when they're separate" He tries to alleviate.

"I fucking hate you" I'm almost pointing at him.

Yeah, that's how mad he got me.

"Relax drama queen" He stands up and pours his hands up in surrender as he sees I'm serious about murdering him "Don't you see what it means?"

"That you're the assholest asshole that ever assholed in assholeville?"

He looks like he wants to make fun of my lame insult but he doesn't "I'm an asshole, I get it. But no Stan, it means..." I tense in anticipation without even noticing "I really like you"

I should have said something a little more serious than what I did "And you HAD to get your point across with sixty-nining fish"

His lips part in surprise at what I'm not paying attention to "Dude" He takes a step towards me and invades my personal space yet again.

"No, don't try to make up for this now" My voice is weaker but just as determined.

"I like you" He says again and that's when the words finally hit me and I stall my ramble in order to look up at him "...a lot. For real"

What do you say to that? Honestly...

"Ken-"

He rolls his eyes "It's not permanent, OK? I lied, it's gonna last three months at the most" I frown, because I had no idea such thing as a three-month tattoo existed "I'm serious... it's all the pain of a real tattoo without the 'forever' added to it" He raises up his hands to my shoulders smoothly "Can we pay attention to the- context, now?"

I don't even care about the fish anymore, not really "You- like me?"

"Yeah"

My tongue comes out to wet my lips poorly "I... I like you" admitting it is quite easy, something I didn't expect.

"I know that" He murmurs and lets his forehead rest against mine "What I don't know is why you won't let anything happen"

"Kyle-"

"Told you to not get serious with me" My gaze moves up to his eyes and I grimace, noticing how awful it sounded when he said it "I know how chatty things get about private things between you two, Stan... I grew up with both too, remember?"

I let my gaze fall to the floor in guilt because I don't want him to think I got such a horrible impression of him.

"You know, some people grow up from the time they're eighteen" He callously mutters out and that's when I realize how bad he hates it that everyone seems to think he's the same kid who dropped high school to start tattooing.

Hell, what can I even reproach him? He's doing a hell of a lot better than me, career-wise.

"I'm sorry"

"I know" He says again and steps away, going over to the other side of the shop and turning up his stereo, letting some music rid us of the tension.

It's not weird that he goes straight to his 'Metric' playlist. He loves that band almost obscenely hard.

And I willingly take in the sight of him standing there, shirtless and moving around. The shade of his skin contrast the ink of his -almost all- black and white designs.

I absentmindedly recognize the song as 'Black sheep' but my head is too busy reminding me about all the ways I want to have him. I make up my mind by the times he starts singing and bobbing his head to the music. See how Kenny used to have a really nice singing voice when we were little?

Well it kind of got even better with the years.

"Hello again, friend of a friend. I knew you when-" I walk to him fast and hard, not letting him continue as I turn him around hard and almost have to stand on my tip toes to kiss him.

'Fuck, he's tall'

I'm prepared by the time the shock wears off of him and place my hands firmly at the sides of his face so he can't pull away. I sneak my tongue into his mouth and kiss him all but desperately. It takes him a minute before his hands grip my hips and turn me towards his desk, pushing me against it and answering my attentions with just as much fervor "Stan-"

"I don't care" I chuckle against his lips "I don't care anymore, just do it" I hook my fingers on the hem of his pants and pull his hips against mine, proving how much I just want to forget about all the implications and just go with it "You're driving me fucking crazy" I repeat his words to him and he smiles in mirth before resuming what he was doing.

-kissing the living shit out of me.

I feel his hands unbuckle my belt and undue my pants in swift motions, and it only serves to painfully remind me of how experienced he actually is. Yeah, he was better than me. I don't know if Kyle ever actually told him that or not but I'll be the first one to admit it.

He's good.

His hand cups me over my underwear before pulling it down with my pants and kneeling before me.

I almost want him to not do what he's about to, only because it feels like it'd be too much. Sensations were piling up in my spine atrociously fast, yet again. Of course none of that matters once his mouth is on me and my head blanks up, hands tugging and pulling at his arms and hair desperately.

I realize how lost I am when I can't decide whether I wanna close my eyes or keep them open anymore and keep shifting between decisions. He pulls open the drawer next to me and I frown at the sight of lube and condoms "You're such a fucking whore- ah!" He digs his nails into my thigh when I say that and I hope I haven't just angered him.

Even I know better than angering a guy who has my cock in his mouth.

Never a good Idea.

The bobbing of his head distracts me up until I feel one of his hands, slick and cold, slide between my parted legs and tease me.

I'm not a virgin either, so it isn't as hard to ignore the initial discomfort as it used to be. I try to stay focused on his mouth working it's magic on me instead of the burning feeling of him stretching me to my limits.

"Mh- Enough" I call out after a few more minutes of torture because I'm too shamefully close to the edge and it'd be fucking embarrassing to lose myself before we even did anything "Stop" I whisper again and he finally dislodges himself from me, standing back up and leaning into me as I wrap my arms around his neck again and kiss him relentlessly, barely taking the time to open the front of his pants and digging into his boxers to grab him confidently.

He growls hot as hell nothings into my lips as I stroke him steadily. I pull away from the kiss and sink to my knees, taking the condom from his fingers and playfully placing it on him just like Mr. Garrison taught us to. He gets the joke, as usual, and laughs before pulling me on my feet and pushing me to lie on my back against the wooden surface of the desk. Most of the things on it fall to the floor and he doesn't really seem preoccupied by it.

I pant heavily as he pulls one of my legs over his shoulders and keeps the other spread as he leans into me, trailing a hand down the expand of my chest and lower. I wince slightly as he trails his fingers down the tender spot he was tattooing just minutes ago before finally leaning in all the way and offering me a kiss.

My groan is loud against his lips as he pushes into me and starts rocking us back and forth. The pain of it does nothing to kill the mood as I tend to be a bit masochistic when it comes to sex, one of the few good things that worked to my favor when I woke up gay one day. He smiles and teases my neck with long, languid licks and bites "Feeling good, baby?" I place a hand over his mouth, hating the cheesy sex talk and he smiles against my palm before biting on my thumb sharply.

My hands turn to his shoulders then, letting him pick up the pace slowly until I can hear his skin slapping against mine and making my eyes roll back to the inside of my head.

"F-fuck, Kenny" His hand finds my erection and pumps it fast, not helping me on my quest of lasting enough for it not to be laughter worthy. I hear my breath go shallow before I actually feel it and my chest expands and contracts as it usually does before I can no longer control myself "Shit- wait...wait" I plead and bring a hand down to where his is, stalling his movements.

He licks his lips and kisses the side of my face repeatedly, right next to my ear "Losing it?"

"Shut up" I grunt and he grinds into me, making me moan loudly and shut my eyes tight.

"Didn't know you were this easy to please" He does it again and I'm actually pushing his chest away in annoyance.

"Fucking shut up" I demand.

"You gotta wait for me, babe" He instructs, much to sure of himself.

"Jesus, I hate it-" He grabs both of my hips and stands up straight before thrusting in again "when you" and again "Fuck around like thi-ahh" He at least gives me the advantage of leaving my dick alone as he starts going fast and faster. After a few minutes, everything is a mess of shallow, fast thrusts that make me see stars.

"God- I can't" I shut my eyes tight and hold onto the edge of the desk as I decide it's futile, letting my head fall back in rapture "f-fuck"

"It's ok" he mumbles and groans as his hand comes to my aid me yet again, stroking expertly "It's ok... go" I bite my bottom lip hard as I finally reach my peak, contracting and tensing all around in a mind blowing orgasm.

I absentmindedly hear him groan and pull out for a second, pulling the condom out and throwing it on the floor before jerking himself off hurriedly. I watch with lidded eyes as he chokes a grunt when he finally comes, arching his back towards me as he comes down from his high.

His eyes open slightly and he stays there for a moment, looking down at me, sated and content. One of his hands trails up an down my leg that's still over his shoulder and he smiles, letting it down slowly and resting his elbows on the table at both sides of my head. He leans in and gives me one last kiss and when we part, I'm smiling too.

This is so much more comfortable than I thought it was gonna be.

It's easy... being with him.

It always has been.

Refreshing

Just fun... people underestimate plain old fun so much.

It's how it always should be, with everyone.

My phone rings on the floor where my jeans are and I notice Kenny never even bothered to take his completely off.

"Want me to hand it to you?" He whispers to my ear "Super best might get worried if his ever so loyal buddy fails to answer his call" He's joking, but I can tell there's a slight jealousy coating his words and it almost makes me think it's sweet that he's irked about Kyle usually being my first priority.

"He knows I'm getting laid if I don't answer... it's our code" I say and let him rest all of his upper weight on me. I take it as him appreciating my answer "Ken-"

"I'm not really one for after sex chatting, Stan" He murmurs against my shoulder and I chuckle "I'm literally horrible at it"

I however, can't control the chatty girl in me who likes to talk after sex.

You can never be sure with him and wanting certainty is one of my biggest issues with people. I tend to want all or nothing and that's something not everyone can accept. I don't want to push him into something he might not be ready for but- "I don't want to be a one time deal"

He inhales deeply before answering, defeated "You're not"

"How can I be sure?" I ask and he finally stands up fully, fixing his jeans and underwear before tossing my own to me.

"Either you trust me, or you don't" He says when I finally find a way to sit on the desk without feeling like a thousand needles have been placed on my ass. I grab onto my clothes and catch my shirt when he gives it back "That's all I can offer you, Stan. Ball's in your court"

I stand up carefully and get into my clothes, thinking about his words.

Trust

I DO trust him... I'm just worried that maybe I shouldn't.

"...I" Kenny starts gathering his things behind me and I stay thinking for a while. Thinking about how I always try to consider the consequences of my decisions and how useless that is.

Because people aren't black or white and it's tremendously stupid to take them as such. If I want Kenny's good side, I have to take the things that make him who he is even if they stir all kinds of insecurities in me.

I'm a silly little girl in the body of a young adult, if he can deal with that- then I think I can deal with the jealousy that comes after getting involved with someone who has had so many others before me.

I know he's honest.

I know it's hard to make him be serious but once he's in, he's the most loyal person in the universe.

Isn't' that enough?

"I trust you" His lips on my still unclothed back answer me and a huge smile breaks through my lips, making me feel vulnerable and pathetic like many other times before.

And oddly enough, it's the first time I say that with no embarrassment whatsoever


"You slept with Cartman"

The very statement seems to weigh down on his shoulders hard enough to make him lean towards his computer a little bit more, offering me a clearer view of his panicking face.

"I don't know what the hell happened..." He runs a hand through his thick hair and looks away from the web-cam as he speaks his next words "I went to confront him about the pictures and got unbelievably creeped out when he didn't even deny it"

My fingers tap on the desk in front of me "And that ended up with you having sex with him- how?"

"I DON'T KNOW" He looks horrified and I'm thinking maybe Harvard isn't the best thing for him. It's bloody eating away at his mental health.

I lean back against my chair and smile at the screen when he sinks his face into his palms. "I was demanding answers... not just for now but for every single time he cracked a joke about me and suddenly, instead of answering, he kind of just- grabbed my face and kissed me" He says his last words with skepticism, like he can't even believe it.

"I thought you sort of- hated him, dude" I can't believe how unimpressed I am by all this. It seems kind of natural, doesn't it? Cartman picking on Kyle cause he's secretly in love with him... it almost sounds too obvious for us to never have noticed before.

"I DO" He slams his hands down on his desk and stares at me with determination "This doesn't change anything! I don't care why he does what he does, it doesn't make his actions any less real or horrible"

I raise an eyebrow at him "But you still let him fuck you against his closet"

His face falls into the dark pits of self pity "Fuck... now I should really kill myself, shouldn't I?"

"Kind of..." I can't resist but answer.

He smiles and tugs down his scarf a bit, unwillingly revealing nasty hickeys all over his neck.

Why am I entertained by all this? "Some best friend you are"

"Dude" I say and he looks up for a moment "Cartman?... seriously?"

"I know" He mutters, a little more warmed up to the idea. The sight of him considering it already freaks me out so I try to not include the possibility that there may be something there "How awful of a person does that make me?"

"Just promise me I'm never gonna see you dye your hair or change your religion for him and it'll be fine"

"Promised" He says almost instantly.

"Then if you're cool, I'm cool"

"You don't think any less of me because of it?" What kind of an insecure question is that? It totally sounds like something I would say.

"A little but hey, I spent my whole life thinking you were perfect. I'm just glad you're actually human" He smiles and finally meets my eyes.

"Kenny?... Seriously?"

"See, I'm not that innocent either"

"This sounds like a total joke, doesn't it? All my life, I thought that if I was gonna be gay, I'd want it be with you and then this comes up and slaps me in the face"

"We can still be gay for each other, Ky. Just give it time" I answer and he scrunches up his nose.

"Well this conversation is officially making me want to kill a unicorn. Let's leave it here" I laugh out loud at his words and lean further down on my padded chair, happy that I'm no longer torturing myself with unimportant things. Kyle stares at his watch then and inhales sharply "There's something I need to do, Stan. Can we talk later?" He says and already stands up to leave, making the guessing so much easier.

"Kay, have fun on your date with Cartman" I see every muscle in his back tense up before he forces himself to relax. It makes me feel relieved that he can still trust me with things this big.

"Thanks..." He mutters out finally and smiles "Have fun boinking my ex on the couch. Say hi to him for me"

"Will do" I answer casually before he logs out.

It only takes me a minute to do the same.

"Greetings from Ivy league land?" A voice asks behind me and I smile before standing up, turning to face him.

"He's doing Cartman" I inform and he doesn't seem surprised at all, which does not surprise me.

"I'd say Cartman is doing him"

"You knew" I state.

"Yes" He answers.

"Kyle told you"

"Eric told me" I nod, understanding how that would be far more comprehensible "And then I called Kyle to express my indignation at being replaced by the fat ass"

"Sounds about right"

He wraps an arm around my shoulder and leads me to the living room "Movie?"

"Sure"

"It's transformers II"

"Or course it is"

He already has Chinese take out on the coffee table by the time I sit down and only keeps his arms around my shoulder in a lazy fashion as I let most of my weight rest on his shoulder.

"Now let me talk to you about a serious permanent tattoo I've been thinking about doing to you" He says and hands me a can of beer I pop open and drink.

"No"

"It'll be on your penis"

I let the can down on the coffee table on one swift motion and pull him to me so I can kiss him hard and fast, hoping... Just hoping it'll make him forget about the idea from scratch before it turns into something to deal with.

The End


AN: I have had this oneshot laying around for ages now so it's only fitting I submit it. It's my- first smutt scene ever, so I encourage niceness.

Hope you enjoyed-

Would love reviews but no pressure... seriously O.O