The morning sun was pouring through the window when Kyle finally stirred.

Stan had been awake for an hour now. He had spent twenty minutes just debating whether or not it was a good idea to light up the single cigarette he had snatched from Kenny. Finally, he decided that its sweet relief would be worth the possibility of waking up the guy in his bed. It took him a while to find his only lighter, but he did eventually; he spent another twenty minutes after that just sorting out his thoughts and considering what new predicaments had shown their ugly head that hungover morning.

Kyle was naked in Stan's bed. All his clothes were on the floor… and torn to absolute shreds.

Stan really, really needed that cigarette.

Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if he knew why exactly this was happening. He recalled heading out of the house with Kyle and Kenny, but after a few drinks at a party, everything was a total blank. The party had been massive, and Kenny had warned them not to take drinks from anyone but himself. They both thought that was pretty shady, but they didn't worry about it and drank like there was no tomorrow. After all, the rest of his family was visiting colleges for Shelley, so Stan's house was empty for the weekend. It was a Friday night, they were stupid guys, and they had a perfect place to crash. Nothing could go wrong.

Stan didn't know if he could call the current situation something gone wrong. He didn't know what the fuck to call it, really.

"Ugh." Kyle's first words perfectly described Stan's feelings, too. His head was reeling. "Jesus Christ… my head is killing me…."

Stan took a drag from his cigarette. It was delicious.

"Are you smoking?" Kyle scratched his head lazily and took a big breath through his nostrils. "Since when do you smoke?"

Stan just ignored the question. "Morning, Kyle," he murmured through a light haze. He had at least cracked the window open. He made sure to exhale outside so the smell didn't linger; if his mom smelled smoke on his stuff, she would blow a fuse.

"Morning…" With effort, Kyle rolled himself over to face Stan. In the process, something quite important came to his attention. "Am I naked?"


"Where are my clothes?"

Stan pointed to the various articles of clothing that were tossed about the room. The shirt was ripped clean in half. The pants had only really been damaged at the zipper, but the boxers were so beaten that it looked like a wild animal had attacked them with teeth bared.

"Oh," Kyle muttered, and nothing else.

For a long time, they stared at each other. Stan's original shock had faded slightly, so he could pull a normal face; Kyle was just too groggy for much of anything other than a dead stare at his best friend. However, in both of their heads, "what the fuck" was running rampant.

Finally, Kyle sighed. "Do you know…" he trailed off, not wanting to be too specific. There were a lot of things he didn't know, so he kept the question vague to see what Stan could possibly fill him in on.

"Dude, I don't know jack shit."

"Oh," Kyle said again. He felt pretty useless and just wanted to sleep more, but he guessed that might be a little inappropriate considering his severe lack of clothing.

Stan took another quick drag from his cigarette and exhaled out the window. "I woke up a little while ago, dude. I was in my boxers and just as confused as you."

He didn't stress the boxers part much, but it made the world of difference. It told Kyle that at least Stan had been somewhat clothed. They probably just got shitfaced and spilled all over themselves, and in a hot mess they had undressed for bed, too drunk to even look for pajamas. Kyle had probably gotten frustrated with trying to undress normally and resorted to ripping shit off left and right. They probably had had a crazy, awesome night, and everything was just fine.

But still, Kyle was curious. Only one person could shed any light on the situation now.

With as much effort as he could put into it, Kyle dragged himself off the bed and onto the floor. Stan watched curiously until he got a dark glare and a "dude, turn the fuck around." Finally, after what seemed like a painful eternity, Kyle reached his mauled jeans on the carpet. He ruffled them around until he pulled his phone out, satisfied and victorious.

"What are you doing?" Stan asked as he looked out the window. He was glad to be facing the other direction, since his face was burning up.

"Calling Kenny."


"Because he most likely remembers what happened last night. Don't you want to know what the fuck we did? It was probably insane."

No, Stan didn't want to know the details of the night. Because he had lied—he had woken up butt naked using his best friend's arm as a pillow. He had been practically spooning with him. The worst part of it all, though, was the way his body felt—hungover, achy, but most of all, sore. He was far too sore than anyone should be after waking up naked with someone, even if it had been the craziest night ever.

With the knowledge of nudity and a sore ass, Stan Marsh couldn't bear to think what Kenny knew.

As Kyle called their friend, they heard a dull ring coming from the hallway outside the room. Stan walked over to the door and pushed it open with a creak. There, out cold and wearing only his disheveled parka, was Kenny. His drool had made a tiny puddle on the rug.

Stan nudged him with his foot. Kenny grunted.

"Well, at least he's alive," Stan said loudly enough for Kyle to hear.

"So, you borrowed Stan's boxers?"

Kyle blinked, dumbfounded. He was chomping on Fruit Loops like it was his first meal in days. "Huh? How do you know?"

"You weren't wearing those last night." Kenny smirked and laughed knowingly, his eyes mischievous.

"Uh… Yeah, mine were pretty fucked up…" Kyle mumbled between Fruit Loop goodness, feeling shy for some reason.

The three friends were sitting at Stan's table having a late breakfast. Kyle and Stan were so close that Stan kept a small supply of kosher food items in his fridge, but at the moment, Kyle wanted those Fruit Loops more than anything. Stan was too restless to eat. He was nervous as hell to hear what happened. Kenny didn't black out unless he was cross-fading on multiple drugs, and Stan knew he had been relatively clean for awhile. They were going to hear the whole story, and Kenny never left anything out.

"You guys really wanna know what happened?"

Shit, Stan thought. He was being sensitive. That means there is something important to be sensitive about.

"Of course," Kyle answered with his mouth full.

"All right," Kenny sighed lightheartedly, "I won't spare any details."

We left the house at eleven. You must remember that. I brought us some rum to pregame, and we drank plenty before heading out. You guys let me drive since I'm the best at doing anything buzzed. You guys were nearly drunk by the time we reached the party, but then again, your tolerance level compared to mine is pretty goddamn low.

I warned you: don't just take drinks from anyone. You don't know how to tell when it's spiked, and if they mean business, there's no way you could ever know before it hit you like a freight train. Nobody is gonna wanna drug your asses—after all, you're dudes—but just to be safe, let me pour the drinks. There are some freaks out there. If you're ever going to meet those freaks, you'll meet them at this fucking party.

The party was held at a huge ass mansion in a nice fucking neighborhood. It was probably even bigger than Token's house. It was overflowing with liquor, but there was other shit there that you guys didn't need to be a part of. I took you because you wanted to go, but I was honestly worried and wanted to watch over you guys. I know you hate it when I treat you like straight-laced kids, but that's just the kind of friend I am. Just because I like to try new shit and trip balls doesn't mean I should encourage you to do the same. But, you know, if you're ever down, I'm all over it. I just won't invite you into it for my sake.

Anyway, there were a lot of drunk people and a lot of trippers. This place was so crazy, I'm amazed the police didn't bust it. It was probably in such a rich place that they bought off the cops. Hell, they probably invited them and the neighbors too. We were all being stupid as usual and having a great fucking time. At some point, somewhere in that mess, you two got a hold of a drink and chugged. I don't know which one or where you got it. It was probably given to some idiot bimbo, I don't know. All I know is that you guys drank something and pretty soon, you were absolutely wild. You were trying to fuck anyone who was willing and seemed ready for the hospital. I knew you hadn't had enough to be that stupid, so I blew the whistle. I dragged your sorry asses out and shoved you in the car. I drove us home, barely sober enough to do so, and dragged you into Stan's place. I'm glad it was empty and we didn't have to sneak in anywhere, since you guys were so loud that I thought I had to pop you in the mouth to shut you the fuck up.

It was obvious at that point that you guys were drugged. I was pretty worried, but not enough to bust us by taking you to the hospital. After all, you had split the drug between you. It was intentionally for one average girl, and you were two average guys. You could handle a night of black outs and craziness. I had gotten you somewhere safe enough. It was just a matter of getting you water and rest and waiting it all out.

I plopped you two on the couch and turned on the TV. The first order of business was water, because not only were you drugged but pretty shitfaced as well. I wanted you to sober up a little before passing out. I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed some cups and filled them with tap water. I was only gone for a few minutes, tops. Then again, I'm always drunker than I think, since you guys know I can play it sober if the situation calls for it, and that shit fucking called for it. I'm pretty sure it was only a few minutes.

Now, you know I wouldn't lie to you guys. I wouldn't pull that stupid shit. I have nothing to hide from you. I have nothing to gain or lose from what I'm about to say, and I hope you know it's only coming up because you asked.

Kyle, you had been the craziest that whole night. Maybe it's because you're an honor student, I don't know, but when you party, you mean fucking business. I do it for the fun of it and because I get bored, and Stan does it to be with friends and have great experiences, but you, damn. I don't know. I think it's to let loose after all that stress piles up. I had been keeping an extra eye on you all night. Stan had been relatively good compared to you, albeit stupid as fuck.

I took my eye off of you for one second to get you two some water, and when I walked back in the room, I nearly dropped the glasses. You were on your knees, Kyle, with your back to the TV, giving Stan a blowjob as he sat on the couch.

I'm gonna be honest, you had already been making out. The second I threw you guys in the backseat of the car, you collided and just started going at it. I didn't really pay much attention since I needed to focus on driving and getting you back safe, but I heard you. It was a fucking mess back there. If you don't believe me, Stan, check your car. Fog it up and check out the windows. There are smeared hand marks all over the place. I bet you'll be able to see your own hair imprinted too, since Kyle had you pinned pretty tight against the door. He was a fucking beast. You were just kinda going with it, but don't get me wrong, you were all for it. If Kyle was the instigator, then you were the one encouraging him.

I was amazed I got you guys separated enough to climb out of the car and into the house. I'm pretty fucking impressed with myself. You're welcome.

The entire time you messed around while I took care of you guys, I was totally oblivious to what was really happening. I didn't give a shit that you were messing around, really. I figured it was because you guys were fucked up and nothing more. You needed to get some pent up energy out and kissing feels good, no matter whose mouth it is. I let you do whatever because it wasn't like you were going to remember and you wouldn't need to find out. I would have taken it to my grave. I didn't know the extent of your guys' horniness. I mean, Jesus.

What? Don't look at me like that. You were the ones who did it, not me. Maybe after I've told you the whole story, we should talk this shit out. I wanna know what you guys have going on here—I'm not gonna judge, I swear. Dudes can be pretty hot, too. Seen Craig lately? That fucker has a nice fucking ass. What? I'm just trying to break the ice here. No need to be so awkward about it. So, you messed around. So what. If you're awkward now, you might as well kill yourselves before I finish the story. And believe me, I will finish it.

Stan, you were enjoying the blowjob. A lot. Kyle was getting quite creative, I could tell by your face. I stood in shock for awhile before realizing my original purpose. I kneeled next to Kyle with a glass of water. I said, "Hey, drink this. Do it before anything else." You didn't listen, obviously, so I tried a new tactic. "If you drink this, it'll feel better for him."

And what do you know, you drank it. I moved on to Stan while you took a break. I grabbed his face in both of my hands to make sure he was listening. I said, "Stan, Kyle is giving you a blowjob. He's your best friend. Are you sure you're okay with this?" I was trying to wake your ass up to reality, but it didn't quite work. Instead, you grabbed my wrists and tugged me down, immediately bringing me into a kiss. My first thought was not, "Oh, Stan is kissing me. This is bad news." I just thought, "Hey, a warm tongue in my mouth. Yummy."

Yeah, so now you have no excuse to be awkward all by yourselves. I was in on this too. Blame my love of drunken hook ups, but I didn't push you away. I like to think of it as me being a good friend and indulging you… and yeah, I enjoyed it too.

So Kyle went back to blowing your brains out, Stan, and you got pretty distracted from our make out. I was considerate of that. You cried out—yeah, sorry to break it to you, but you're a little screamer—and I took the opportunity to force some water down your throat. You nearly coughed it up, but I kept it down by shoving it down personally with my tongue. Again, you're welcome.

Stan, I didn't know this about you, but you're kinda clingy. I tried to get you guys more water, but you kept hanging on to my neck. Kyle was rocking your world, yet you were desperately grabbing for a hug. I obliged, of course, since shoving you off would have been cruel.

Believe me, I was pretty drunk, but I have a great memory, especially when it comes to shit like this. I was hanging onto Stan like my life depended on it, and he was swearing a fucking lot in an adorable voice—don't look at me like that, it's the truth—because Kyle is apparently pretty good at blowjobs. When Stan finally called out your name, Kyle, you drank it all up.

Don't interrupt! Just because you don't like the truth means you can censor it! Aren't you the one always standing up for freedom of speech? Don't run from the truth, Kyle. Look at Stan—he's a blushing mess but he's keeping it together. Now, sit your ass back down and listen. This shit is important.

Now, I was talking about the blowjob. The aftermath was pretty adorable, let me just say. I think you guys have enough love between you to make a guy jealous. Kyle slowly looked up at you, Stan, and simply asked, "Was that good?"

I have seen a lot of post-orgasm faces, and yours was just grade A fantastic. I commend you, my friend. You'll get plenty of service in your life if you give everyone who pleases you a look like that. Kyle obviously loved it, since he practically smashed your head against the wall as he came up to kiss you. You still had your arms wrapped around me tightly, and as you kissed Kyle, you squeezed even harder as if to remind me I was still there, still with you both. It was pretty fucking adorable, not gonna lie.

Now, there's a part here that gets kinda hazy for me. I'm not sure how, but we ended up in Stan's bed. Thinking back now, I was pretty messed up—more than I realized at the time, but I guess that's always how it is with me. But I do remember that at some point, I went to get us more water and tripped over Kyle's clothes in a bundle on the floor. You guys were extremely urgent to get naked, that's for sure.

I remember hurrying when I heard Stan calling for me desperately. You sounded pretty nervous, like I was going to be gone forever or something. I was touched. I tried my best to grab the water we badly needed, but I may have been gone for a pretty long time. Who knows. All I know is that when I stumbled back in the room with a few water bottles in hand, I nearly passed out right then and there from the sight that greeted me. You guys kept freaking me out all night; it was like I couldn't enter a room without seeing some new and unexpected depraved act. This time was probably the worst: you were on all fours, Stan—well, more like you were collapsed face-first on the covers of your bed with your ass sticking up in the air. I watched, dumbfounded for a good few seconds, as Kyle fingered and licked your asshole. The only thing that broke me from my trance was Kyle pausing, looking up at me, and commanding with a growl: "Get the fuck over here."

There was no way in hell I would disobey that. Number one: Kyle, you're fucking scary sometimes; and number two: there was nothing with that scenario that I had an issue with. Seriously, nothing at all.

After climbing onto the bed with you two, I was immediately met with frantic hands tearing my clothes off. I was flattered you two were so eager to have me naked as well. Usually, I'm the one trying to please in bed, but you guys were overwhelming, to say the least. Stan, you went right to work on giving me a blowjob, with zero hesitation and Kyle's fingers still knuckle-deep in your ass. I couldn't even say anything to you guys since Kyle was so quick to keep my tongue busy that I had no opportunity for words.

Okay, I'm getting a little embarrassed… Stan, you're really, really good at blowjobs. I have to ask: have you practiced? Seriously, have you? Because damn. You should start charging a lot of money for them. You have no gag reflex at all, I swear. Okay, okay… I'll move on; don't be too mortified. I just thought you should know.

After I busted a load in your mouth—I warned you, but you didn't listen when I said I was coming—you called out to Kyle. He slipped his fingers into your mouth and collected some of my cum. Yeah… we used my cum as a lube on your ass, Stan.

At that point, I was ready to pass out. It had been a rough night for me—running around for water, trying to keep my shit together as things rapidly spun out of my control, and coming buckets in my buddy's mouth—pretty rough, let me tell you. But there was no way you guys were going to sleep any time soon, and I had to stay up to watch you. So that's what I did. I watched. I took it all in and let the sounds and images brand my brain forever. I'll never be the same. Allow me to recite as much as I can from memory. I'll even do my best impression of your voices, heavy breathing and all. Why? Because I find it fucking hilarious.

"Ah, Kyle… it kinda… hurts…." You were panting like a dog, Stan. That's why I'm panting and stuff. See, I'm doing an impression. It's just like you. "For fuck's sake, don't stop!"

"But you said it hurt!"

"I didn't say to stop!"

"Fuck this; I'm going in."

"Oh God…."

Kyle, I'm not quite sure if you jumped the gun or have the patience of a saint. I'm honestly not sure. On one hand, you made sure to stretch Stan out very thoroughly, being a good buddy and all, but at the same time, when you wanted in, you fucking went in. Just like that. I bet Stan's sore just from you shoving your way in like a beast in heat. Poor guy, he was getting such a nice, slow treatment and then suddenly BAM! Ass full o' cock. You're a trooper, I'll give you that much, Stan the Man.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. I was reciting from memory what must be one of the hottest yet most unexpected scenes of my young lives.

Stan, you gritted your teeth as Kyle slid in and just said, over and over:

"Holy fuck…!"

You pretty much both said that in different ways, so now I'll do it kinda angrily, like Kyle did because he was an aggressive fucker in heat.

"Holy fuck…!"

Yeah, that's how you said it, like you were mad, but you were really just overwhelmed by how tight he was. What? It must be true; I mean, Stan's never taken it up the ass before this… uh, have you? I don't want to just assume things… Anyways…

By the way, I made sure you guys used a condom. I always have one in my pocket. Don't judge me.

"Ugh… can I move…?"

"Gently, for fuck's sake…"

You didn't do it gently enough, Kyle.

"Ah! Aaah… oh, God… fuck fuck fuck…!" As you were being ridden, Stan, you somehow managed to look up and see me. It was probably when you jerked your entire body upwards at the impact of a particularly good thrust. You caught my eye and immediately raised one grabby hand in my direction, the other arm busy holding you up. You didn't say much more at that point, just general noises of pleasure, pain, and want. I did, however, hear you mutter my name under your ragged breath. Needless to say, my boner came right back.

I crawled over without much of a thought, suddenly not tired in the least (threesomes do that to me). I got as low on the bed as I could, trying my best to get close to you, Stan. You gave me a little peck on the lips before Kyle's unpredictable and hard thrusting threw you off-balance. It was at that point that I decided I needed in on this action, and fast.

"Hey, Kyle," I said quietly, and at first, you ignored me. "Kyle! Hang on a second!"

You finally stopped, but you didn't look happy about it one bit. You seemed to look like I was trying to steal your perfectly good piece of ass, which I would never dream of because I think you would slit my throat if I tried. Honestly, Kyle, I think you had been waiting a long time for this, much longer than the sexual tension of the night had let on. You were possessive, which is fine, but possessiveness doesn't just spring up suddenly. There are emotions and shit behind that and—oh, we'll talk that boring shit later.

"You can get back to fucking him soon, okay? Just let me… get on in here…" I lied down and managed to squirm underneath, getting an extremely close face-full of Stan's cock. I popped that in my mouth faster than a Tic Tac.

You practically yelped at that point, man. Having your dick in my mouth and having someone else inside you—yeah, that's almost enough for an instantaneous orgasm. Not that I know. I mean, uh… okay, so I do know, but seriously—let's just save that other shit for another time. When this story is done, we can talk for real, I promise.

You took my dick in your mouth too, so pretty soon, the moans were muffled. Only Kyle grunted every now and then. We were gripping hands as we helped hold you up, Stan, our fingers entwined right over your butt cheek, it was real sweet. Stan couldn't stay up very well despite our best efforts though, and he was leaning on me pretty heavily, which meant his dick was as far down my throat as it could get. Luckily for everyone, I don't have a gag reflex.

So we were doing the classic 69, and Kyle was pounding away, and everybody was having a great time. I wasn't thinking clearly, and you guys were far beyond me in levels of awareness, but it was, to be frank, a really comfortable environment. Nobody had tension or apprehension, and when something was wrong or awkward, it was fixed without a hitch. I'm not all that embarrassed about this whole fiasco because it was with you guys—and it didn't feel weird at all. Which I guess… is weird, in its own way.

Stan was the first one in our sex pile to come. I knew it was going to happen because he gasped and bit a little on my dick, which I thought was pretty cool at the time—any sensation on my dick is a good one, I say. I drank up his cum without complaining. After all, you had not only swallowed mine but collected it for lube; it was the least I could do.

Next to come was Kyle. He had been the quietest all night, but at that point, he didn't bother to be subtle about it. I won't put us through the unnecessary pain of hearing me try to recreate the sound of Kyle orgasming like he was having a heart attack, but here, just look at my hand. I said we had been holding hands where we were holding Stan up, right? Yeah, those scratches there are from you. You lost control of your strength when you came. Stan probably has scratches on his ass, too.

I came last. You guys probably didn't know this because you didn't really need to before, but I like a light amount of pain, so Kyle digging his nails into my hand really did the trick.

I think it's safe to say everyone had one of the biggest, baddest climaxes of their life so far.

And that's how it happened. You guys fell asleep in bed together, me right alongside you, and at some point in the early morning I fell onto the floor, so I got up to get some water and ended up puking in the bathroom and passing out in the hallway. I don't know why I woke up with my hoodie on. I probably found it when I fell on the floor.

Now, we should really get to that big talk.