Soundtrack: Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo – The Bloodhound Gang

It's one of those timeless winter Saturdays, where the Christmas decorations are up in Marsh's house, spiked eggnog flows freely, snow coats the lawns and slush the streets, and Stan is holed up in his bedroom with a couple of smuggled beers, a bag of peppermint Hershey's Kisses, his best friend, and his Xbox. Wrapped in blankets and still in last night's pajamas, Kyle and Stan frantically play a round of Nazi Zombies.

"Shit, dude, get that window," Kyle says.

"Which one?" Stan shoots back.

"Ugh, I can't remember what we named it, man! The one behind you. Yeah, that one," Kyle urges. By then it's too late, though, and they're overcome by zombies. The game ends.

Stan glances out the window. It's snowing outside, a lighter snow than the one that happened two weeks ago and buried South Park in two feet of snow. School hadn't been canceled. It never seems to be in Colorado, even for snow.

"Way to go," Kyle snips, giving Stan a look, and snapping Stan from his thoughts.

Stan affords Kyle a toothy smile and lifts his beer to his lips, tipping back the rest of the bottle. He sigh and then leans over, pushing a gentle kiss against Kyle's lips. They've been dating-ish since the end of the summer, not quite boyfriends but definitely more than friends. It started with an impulsive kiss on a morning like this one, after a sleepover. They'd stayed up well into the morning and woke up well into the afternoon. It was hot, and Stan's ceiling fan squeaked with every rotation. Stan was sweaty in his sleeping bag, and hard as a stone in his boxers.

And Kyle just…kissed him. He'd rolled over on the floor and smashed their lips together, and they've been smashing their lips together ever since.

Kyle leans into the kiss now, sighing. He shifts out of his blanket wrapping and straddles Stan's lap, pecking damp kisses down the bridge of Stan's nose and to his jaw. When Kyle looks back up, his eyes flick toward Stan's bedroom door, and he lifts his brows.

"Come on, dude," Stan says, "We said we'd hang out with Kenny today, remember?"

"Are you kidding?" Kyle says, "No way anybody wants to hang out today. It's all gross and snowy."

"He'll never let it go if we back out of chilling with him to have sex, Kyle," Stan points out. Kenny hasn't been able to let them go, period. As soon as Kenny discovered Stan with his hands stuck down Kyle's jeans at one of Bebe's parties, he's been cawing and crowing 'I told you so's day in and day out. It's maybe one of the reasons that Kyle doesn't want to tell anybody about their thing, because everybody already knows. Cartman's been calling them gay since they were in training pants, and Stan thinks that Kyle doesn't want to give the fatass the satisfaction of actually being right.

Kyle groans and tosses his head back. "I hate it when you're right," he says.

Stan kisses him and laughs, pulling him back onto his feet. They get dressed slowly, breaking to kiss sometimes. Stan grabs Kyle's ass when he tries to pull on his jeans, and Kyle gets revenge by kissing down Stan's neck, to his collarbone, and his chest. Stan's half-hard in his pants, and Kyle taunts, "At least we're in it together, asshole."

Stan makes them both coffee and pours it into a couple of travel mugs for the walk across town, during which he expects Kyle to complain the entire distance through the neighborhood and over the train tracks.

Kyle is right – there's nobody outside, not even any kids rolling around in the snow.

"It's fucking cold," complains Kyle.

"I want to go back to your place," adds Kyle.

"I hope you still have a boner," grumbles Kyle.

"I do," snips Stan at that, and adds, "I hope you still have yours too."

Kyle flips Stan off and nurses his coffee. He sticks out his tongue and remarks, "God, this is foul with the beer aftertaste."

"It's not my fault you forgot your toothbrush," Stan says, "You could have just used mine."

"I don't want your germs, Stanley," Kyle replies.

Stan makes an indignant noise deep in his throat and retorts, "Your mouth has been on my dick, and you refuse to share my toothbrush?"

This is not the first time that they've had this argument.

"I think this is like the ninth time we've argued about this," Kyle responds.

To which Stan says, "I think you can read my mind, dude."

They laugh and finish their coffee as they traverse over the tracks, climbing down the concrete ledge and landing in Kenny's neighborhood. It's a shabby area, a mobile home park that scolds the McCormicks for not keeping their lawn looking nice and makes them pay in cash because Stuart's checks bounced one too many times.

Stan and Kyle finish their coffee on the doorstep and shove the empty mugs into Stan's backpack. Kyle knocks on the door. It's Karen that answers – she's still in her pajamas, and her hair is tied back in a scrunchie.

"Oh…uh, hey guys," she greets, "Kenny's upstairs with Butters."

"Lame, dude, Kenny invited Butters over?" Kyle casts Stan a sharp look, as though spending their Saturday with Butters Stotch was his idea. Butters seems to be hanging around them more lately, and while Stan doesn't mind, it bothers Kyle to no end.

Stan starts up the steps, and Karen cocks a brow at them, "Are you guys sure you want to go up there?"

"Of course we're sure," Stan responds, "It's B-Movie Saturday."

Karen rolls her eyes and shrugs, "Okay."

Stan and Kyle exchange glances, but when they push open Kenny's bedroom door, Karen's skepticism is explained.

"Oh," is all that Stan can manage.

Down to their skivvies, Kenny is sitting on top of Butters on his mattress, grinding their bodies together as they press heavy kisses to each other's lips and necks.

"Dude, check out Butters' twinky underwear," Kyle mutters – the offending garment is a pair of boxer briefs that fit against Butters' ass like a glove, and are patterned in little lipstick kiss marks. Stan laughs, and both Butters and Kenny jerk up.

"Jesus, you guys scared the shit out of me," Kenny moans, rolling off of Butters and to his side. He scoops Butters into his chest and kisses the back of Butters' neck before going on, "And will you shut the door? I thought you asshats were Kevin."

Kyle closes the door, and Stan asks, "What the hell, man? I thought we were watching movies."

"Have you looked outside, Marsh? It's sex weather," Kenny says back.

"I told you so," mutters Kyle.

"Aww, fellas, don't argue," Butters says. His cheeks are pink, but he doesn't look as embarrassed as Stan would expect him to feel. He rubs a hand over Kenny's arm and chuckles when Kenny returns to pressing kisses along his neck.

"You could always join in," shrugs Butters.

"I – what?" Stan manages.

"Join in," Butters repeats, "Ken and I like inviting other people to the party, don't we?"

Kenny hums and tousles Butters' hair (Kyle makes a gagging noise behind Stan, and Stan steps on his toes in warning), "Yes we do, baby."

Kenny pulls Butters onto his back again and rubs a hand over his abdomen. His fingers inch lower and beneath the elastic waistband of Butters' underwear. Butters moans and arches into the touch. Kenny leans in and kisses the center of Butters' forehead. He only acknowledges Stan and Kyle when Kyle makes a drama of clearing his throat.

Kenny sighs, "Look, guys. Whether or not you wanna get in on this, I am getting laid right now. Pick your poison."

Beside Stan, Kyle's face is bright red, all the way past the collar of his winter coat and up to his ears. Stan reaches over and touches the back of Kyle's neck. He mumbles, "I dunno, dude. Do you wanna like. Do it with them."

"What?" Kyle says, "We can't actually like, have sex with them."

"Why not?"

"I've never done something like that before," Kyle says. He glances from Stan and back to where Kenny has moved onto removing every bit of clothing from both his and Butters' bodies.

"Dude, are Butters' nipples pierced?" Stan asks.

Kyle stares.

And then he exhales, shifting on the balls of his feet.

"Okay," he says.

Kenny pauses and pulls up for a moment, "Okay, Broflovski?"

"Okay," echoes Kyle, "Okay, we'll join in."

For a long second, all three of them stare at Kyle like he's insane. Stan half-expected that Kyle would grab him by the wrist and drag him all the way back to his house so that they could enjoy the sex weather too. For all his talk, Kyle has vanilla tendencies, and a foursome with Kenny and Butters is definitely off the vanilla reservation.

"Dude, are you sure?" Stan asks, "Like, we can always go back to my place."

Kyle levels his chin and responds, "I'm positive. I've thought about – you know. Watching you and Kenny. Doing stuff."

Kenny whistles lowly, and Stan shoots him a look.

Stan swallows the lump in his throat and his eyes flick to Butters. He asks, "Is that okay with you, Butters? If Kenny and I fool around?"

Butters nods and scoots to the edge of the mattress. He says with a flourish, "He's all yours, Mr. Marsh."

Stan sheds his winter coat and hat, raking a hand through his hair to push it back into place before tugging his t-shirt up over his head. He takes a step forward to Kenny's mattress and Kenny holds up a hand. He says, "The jeans, too, Marsh."

Stan rolls his eyes, but complies. His underwear aren't anything special, not as tight as Butters' are. They're his comfiest plaid boxers, the warm ones that he likes to wear in the winter to keep his boys snug and out of harm's way. Kenny beckons for Stan to join them him and Butters on the mattress, and so he does, sitting on edge at first, and lying back when Kenny puts a hand on his shoulder and coaxes him down.

"Dude," Kenny murmurs, breath tickling Stan's ear, "tell me if you want me to stop anything, okay?"

Stan feels Kenny's lips graze the skin of his neck. They're chapped and dry, nothing like Kyle's. Kyle always keeps a tube of chapstick on him. He says he hates the feeling of his lips being scratchy, and he has a bad habit of chewing them when he concentrates. Kenny's kiss moves to Stan's lips. His kiss is gentle, a tester kiss, maybe. Stan likes it, even though it doesn't feel or taste like Kyle does.

Kenny rubs his palm over Stan's arms, and draws his lips away to kiss and nip at Stan's jaw. Stan hums and he finds his grip in the hair on the back of Kenny's neck. He glances back at Kyle, who is still standing a couple feet away from Kenny's bed, staring at them. Stan pushes Kenny back a little and asks, "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," Kyle says, nodding, "Yeah, of course, dude."

"You don't have to be all lonely over there, Kyle," Butters says brightly, "You could take off some clothes and come sit with us. We won't do nothin' if you don't want us to."

"Yeah," Stan agrees.

Kyle looks dubious, like he doesn't quite believe that he was the one that agreed to this. Still, he pulls off his orange coat and drops it to the carpet beside Stan's. This is followed by his sweater and his jeans. He doesn't take off his boxers before he scoots onto the mattress next to Butters. There isn't a lot of room on it – they're all up close to each other. Kyle runs his foot along Stan's bicep and rests his head on his chin. He lifts his brows at Kenny and commands, "Go on."

"Yes, sir," Kenny salutes, and dips in to kiss Stan, deeper, this time. He tastes like cigarettes. It's not all unpleasant, though Stan doesn't like the taste as much as he likes Kyle's – fruity gum and himself. Stan gets off on Kyle being Kyle.

Kenny goes slow, kissing his way down from Stan's lips to his ear, his breath heavy. Stan's eyes flick to his cock, which is heavy and hard between his legs.

"That looks painful," he says.

Kenny shrugs, "Gotta take care of my man first. I am nothing if not a gentleman."

Kyle snorts at that, and Kenny flips him off.

Kenny kisses and bites at the skin on Stan's neck. He knows what he's doing, and he coaxes noises out from Stan that make Kyle run his fingers through Stan's hair. He's pink in the face, and the look in his eye is a look that Stan is accustomed to – lust. Kyle really likes what he's watching. That makes Stan harder, and encourages him to move Kenny's hand from his abdomen to the tent in his boxers.

"Bold, Marsh," Kenny teases, but he smiles and starts to stroke. He uses just his fingertips and goes tantalizingly slow, making Stan toss his head against the sheets and whine.

"He's not hurting you, is he?" Kyle asks.

"Kenny would never hurt anybody," Butters defends, "He's real good at this part. Stan just likes it a lot, huh, Stan?"

Stan nods, "I'm fine, dude. And will you touch me already, Kenny, I'm fucking dying over here."

"Good things come to those who wait," Kenny taunts back, and Stan kicks him.

"Just for that, I'm drawing this out for as long as I can," Kenny says, a smirk playing on his lips. He puts a little more pressure in as he keeps his hand moving steadily back and forth, over and over. When a moan breaks from Stan, Kenny draws back and hooks his hands underneath Stan's boxers, pulling them down and off of his legs. Stan doesn't have time to see where they landed, because Kenny shifts, parting Stan's legs so that he can kneel between them. He winks and ducks his head.

"What are you – ah," Stan's eyes shutter closed. Kenny's mouth is on him, his tongue laving the head of Stan's cock.

Behind him, Stan hears Kyle moan lowly. He opens his eyes to look back. Kyle isn't doing anything but watching, but he looks as though he's about to explode.

"Dude, Butters, where are your manners?" Kenny says, pulling off of Stan's erection.

"Oh!" exclaims Butters, "I'm real sorry, Kyle, do you want me to do something about that?" He points to Kyle's cock.

Kyle flushes deeper. His eyes flick down Butters' body, lingering on the nipple rings, and he says, "Um. Yeah. Sure. If you want to, man."

"Of course I want to," Butters says, "I love making people feel nice."

He scoots up behind Kyle and kisses the back of Kyle's neck as he reaches into Kyle's boxers and pulls out his dick. Stan expected to feel possessive, but instead, he's terribly, horribly turned on. Kyle won't let Stan film them together, and so he's never watched Kyle losing it from a third person view. It's incredible, watching Kyle melt back against Butters' chest as Butters begins to work his hand over Kyle's erection.

Kyle makes a noise that makes Stan buck up and Kenny chuckle. Kenny places his hands on Stan's his and holds him down, pressing him into the mattress as he licks up the length of Stan's cock. His tongue ring rolls against Stan and Stan groans, trying to move up into Kenny's mouth, but unable to against Kenny's grip.

"Please," he pants.

"Please what?" Kenny asks, grinning like a cat.

"Please," Stan repeats, and then adds timidly, "Please put my cock in your mouth?"

"Your wish is my command," Kenny tells him. He takes the head of Stan's erection into his mouth, lowering himself inch by inch. Stan feels Kenny's throat and whimpers, groping back for Kyle's hand as Kenny takes him all the way in.

"Jesus, Kenny," Stan says. He wishes that he could get that far into a blow job – he's been practicing, but Stan's gag reflex seems to be a finicky bitch, to tell the truth. Kyle has had more success, but nothing like what Kenny is doing right now.

Kenny begins to bob his head and hums. Stan thrashes but can't move from where he's pinned. Kyle's grip on his hand tightens. They're both close to coming, really close. Stan's whole body is tense, like a rubber band stretched to capacity and about to snap.

And when Kenny pulls up and runs his tongue ring over the slit on Stan's dick, he does, coming hard and fast.

Kenny swallows it all and leans down to kiss Stan. The taste of his come is everywhere in Kenny's mouth, but Stan kind of likes it. Kyle always spits it out.

Behind them, Kyle bucks into Butters hand, making little noises that Stan knows he's trying to suppress. Stan pulls himself up into a sitting position and turns to kiss Kyle, running his hands through his red curls.

"I'm gonna come," he says against Stan's lips, "I – ah, fuck."

Butters withdraws his hand and wipes it on Kenny's sheets. He says, "I really liked that."

"Great," Kyle breathes, "Let's do it again sometime." Stan can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not.

Kenny responds, "Are you kidding? That was just to whet your appetites. Butters and I have way more tricks up our sleeves, don't we, sugar?"

"We sure do," Butters nods, "Lots and lots."

"Why don't you just watch while we show you, huh?" suggests Kenny. He stands and treads across the dirty carpet to his scuffed-up dresser. He pulls open the bottom drawer and throws a orange hoodie onto the floor, rifling through whatever laid underneath it.

Kenny calls over his shoulder to Butters, "You wanna pick this time, baby?"

"Christ, how long have they been having sex?" mutters Kyle.

Stan wonders the same thing, and he's starting to think that Kenny and Butters have been fucking for ages before today. Butters slides off of the mattress and joins Kenny, crouching beside him to stare down into the drawer. He runs a hand through Kenny's hair and pecks a kiss to his shoulder as he reaches in.

Butters pulls out an enormous piece of silver plastic and says, "How about this one?"

"Good choice," Kenny agrees, "Here, give that to me, and here's the lube."

Stan and Kyle glance at one another. Stan scoots back to sit with Kyle, looping his arm around Kyle's waist. He says, "If you want to leave or anything, dude, we can."

"No…I, um, I'm actually kind of curious," admits Kyle, "I'd been thinking about getting. You know. A toy."

Stan pulls back to gape.

"What?" Kyle asks.

Stan whistles, "That's hot."

Kyle hits his arm, but kisses the tip of Stan's nose, smiling to himself.

Butters backs onto the bed, his head of blond hair landing right against Stan's feet. Kenny follows, crawling in between Butters' legs. He looks at Stan and Kyle, and then back to Butters. He points to the lube and asks, "You wanna get yourself ready, or should I?"

"Can you do it?" Butters asks, "I love the way you do it."

Kenny bends over and presses kisses to Butters' collarbone. He moves down to tongue over Butters' nipples. Butters keens and catches his hands in Kenny's hair. He tugs at Kenny's hair, hard enough that it looks like he's doing it on purpose, and Kenny cries out a little, grinning. He kisses Butters' lips and orders, "Turn over."

Butters obeys, folding his arms and setting his chin on them. He smiles cheerily at Stan and Kyle as Kenny reaches for the lube and uncaps it, drizzling a generous amount over his fingers.

Stan leans into Kyle as he watches Kenny lean over Butters and kiss his shoulder blade. Kenny is calculated about his touch, watching his fingers carefully as he begins to push one inside Butters. It's hot, way hotter than Stan expected Butters to be. He feels himself getting hot again already, and he presses against Kyle to kiss him roughly. Kyle nips down on Stan's lower lip, but they pull away from each other when Butters moans at their feet.

Kenny is thrusting two fingers into Butters now, sweat beading on his brow. The expression on his face is nothing short of desperate, like he'll die if he can't be inside Butters. Stan knows the feeling.

"You ready?" Kenny asks.

Butters nods into his arms and Kenny picks up the vibrator. He coats it in lube and says, "Watch and learn, boys." He switches it on and positions it at Butters' entrance. At first, he just teases around Butters, making Butters shiver and quake with need.

"Ken, please don't tease me," Butters whispers.

Kenny leans down and kisses Butters' jaw. He replies, "I'll tease you as much as I like, sweetheart."

Butters moans.

And then Kenny begins to push it inside Butters. A wince crosses Butters' face, but it only lasts an instant before melting into another groan. Kenny is careful, focused entirely on Butters now. It's as though Kyle and Stan aren't even there anymore.

Butters begins to cant back against the toy. He's cursing under his breath, words that Stan has never heard pass Butters' lips until now. He takes the sheets in his fist and whines out, "Harder, Ken."

"I will, baby," Kenny assures him, rubbing a soothing hand over Butters' back, "I just don't want to hurt you. You gotta hang on."

Kenny turns the vibrator up a couple of notches and draws it out halfway before pushing back in. Butters writhes and bucks against the sheets. He says, "I need your hands on me."

Kenny starts thrusting the toy in and out of Butters, and only reaches around him when Butters repeats his plea, with ten times more need than before. Kenny only has to skate his fingertips over Butters' erection once before Butters comes all over the sheets with a shout.

Kenny pulls the toy out of Butters and falls back, panting. He nods at Stan and Kyle and says, "That's how you do it."

Kenny swallows and rubs a hand over his forehead. Stan has never seen somebody ignore their own boner for so long, least of all Kenny. Before he can say anything, though, Kyle pipes up beside him, "Hey, Kenny?"

Kenny looks over at them through heavy-lidded eyes and answers, "Yeah?"

"Do you want to – do you want to fuck me?" he asks, and then nervously looks over at Stan and adds, "Is that okay?"

"Hell yeah," Stan agrees, because he's still too tired to move, even though he's hard again.

"I'd love to, Kyle, but I'm not sure I've got the energy," Kenny says, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

"Well, um," Kyle says, "You could like, sit next to Stan, and I could – ride you."

Kenny's brows lift into his hair and he says, "Really?"

"Yeah," Kyle says, "Toss me the lube, Butters."

Butters smiles hazily from his spot on his stomach and rolls to the other side of the mattress, onto his back. He hands the bottle back to Kyle, who opens it and dumps a glob onto his fingers. Kyle cocks his head at Kenny and says, "Get over here, dude."

Kenny groans tiredly, but pushes his body back into a sitting position. He crawls on hands and knees toward them and collapses beside Stan, where Kyle has shifted away from the wall. Kenny rolls his head over to look at Stan and remarks, "I think we unleashed your boyfriend's inner skank, Marsh."

Kyle glares, and Kenny leans forward to peck a kiss to Kyle's cheek, saying, "I'm sorry, honey. Let's not argue."

"If I wasn't about to fuck you, I'd kill you," Kyle tells him. He rolls his eyes as he sidles up, straddling Kenny's skinny legs. Kyle reaches behind himself with a nervy look at Stan, and then starts to press a finger inside of himself. Kenny moans as Kyle works himself open, whimpering each time that his fingers press against his prostate. It makes Stan harder, makes him want to kiss Kyle and thrust into him and hold their bodies together.

After too long, Kyle pulls his hand away from himself with a long exhale. He fumbles for the lube again, and with trembling hands, pours it over Kenny's cock. Kenny moans and Kyle edges up closer. Gradually, he lowers his body onto Kenny's cock.

Butters and Stan watch in fascination as Kyle settles onto Kenny, only releasing their held breath when Kyle is fully seated. It's so much sexier than Stan knew it could be, with Kenny lifting a lazy hand to tuck a curl of Kyle's hair behind his ear, and whispering, "I'm not gonna last long, Kyle."

"That's okay," Kyle responds, and he kisses Kenny on the lips.

Kyle moves, riding Kenny slow at first, his lips parted. His tongue darts out to wet them, and he leans his forehead against Kenny. He mumbles incoherently, "You feel so damn good, dude."

"Yeah," Kenny agrees breathlessly, "Same here, fuck."

Their bodies move in sync, Kenny thrusting up to meet each fall of Kyle's hips. Stan has never seen something so fucking erotic in his life, and he can't tear his gaze away. Beside him, Butters is equally as entranced, staring as though he's been hypnotized and can't break out of it.

Kenny swears when he comes, cracking his head against the wall behind him with a hoarse laugh. Kyle stays seated and strokes back Kenny's sweaty hair, letting him relax for a little with his eyes closed. Kenny indicates to Kyle's erection and asks, "You want me to do something about that?"

Kyle responds, "Dude, you're tired as fuck. I've got plans for this boner."

Kenny laughs again and says, "Cool. Just checking. I told you I'm a gentleman."

Kyle breaks their bodies apart after another moment and crooks a finger at Stan. He says, "C'mere, Stanley."

Stan doesn't even bother asking why. He shifts and parks himself in front of Kyle, pulling him in by the neck to give him a long, full kiss. Kyle pulls away and noses at Stan's hair. He says, "I'm gonna fuck you. How do you want it?"

Stan thinks about it for a minute and says, "I'll get on my hands and knees."

Kyle kisses Stan's forehead and replies, "Perfect," his hand reaching again for the lube. He's shaking as he reaches to touch Stan, thumbing over his entrance as though admiring it, before he pushes a finger inside. Stan almost can't take it – he cries out, and grips at the sheets. He's had Kyle do this to him a thousand times before, but this time he's so itchy and needy for it that it's making him crazy. Kyle grazes against his prostate and Stan swears.

"Do it again," Stan says.

Kyle does. He slides in another finger, the fit a little tight but nothing that Stan isn't accustomed too. He's getting off on being watched, of looking up and seeing Butters and Kenny both staring at them with clouded eyes. Maybe they know that this is probably the only time that they'll get to see this. Stan and Kyle are typically private about sex, they don't like letting people in on it. Today is different for some reason.

Maybe it's the sex weather.

"Do you want me to wrap up?" asks Kyle.

Stan glances back at him and says, "I don't care, dude."

Kyle shrugs and lubes himself up without ceremony. He pulls Stan toward him. He pauses, and Stan can feel the tip of Kyle's cock against him as Kyle bends and kisses along Stan's spine, eerily reverent for the situation. He smiles at Stan and rubs his shoulders as he positions himself, taking cock in hand and pressing into Stan's body.

It feels so fucking good.

God, this is just what Stan needed.

Kyle bucks forward, and Stan whines. He loves how rough Kyle gets when he's needy. He pulls Stan's head back by his hair as he works up a rhythm and says, "I love the way you feel under me," in his ear. Kyle kisses Stan's neck, biting down on his skin. Stan groans at the flash of pain. There'll be a mark tomorrow, no doubt. Stan fucking loves when Kyle leaves marks, and he loves leaving marks on Kyle, too.

Kyle pounds into him and Stan cries out his name, over and over, as though he's performing a ritual.

As he creeps closer to coming, Butters slinks forward on the mattress. He kisses the top of Stan's head and skates the tips of his fingers over Stan's stomach. He points to Stan's erection and asks, "May I?"

"Fuck," Stan manages, "Please do."

Butters' hand closes around Stan's cock as Kyle slams into him over and over. Stan feels the crescendo of his orgasm rising up, buzzing in his ears and wiping out his mind, replacing thoughts with white noise and helpless noises of appreciation. He comes almost exactly in unison with Kyle, into Butters' hand and Kenny's sheets. An instant later he collapses into a heap, Kyle on top of him.

"Holy shit," Stan remarks.

"Holy shit, indeed," agrees Kyle.

Above them, Butters and Kenny share a look, and Butters slips underneath Kenny's tattooed arm, pushing sweet kisses to the column of his throat. They're tender together, and Stan gets the feeling that they don't let everybody see them this way, wrapped up in each other and looking at each other like there's no place they love more than being in each other's arms. Stan gets that – when he and Kyle are all wrapped up together, he never wants move. Kyle's arms are where he lives.

After a long while, Kyle finally pulls out of Stan, leaving his body feeling ore and open. It's a wonderful feeling, especially as Kyle fits their bodies snugly together and wraps his arms around Stan's neck. They kiss.

What feels like a few minutes later, Stan jerks up, and realizes that he must have fallen asleep – outside, the sun has just set, and a blue-yellow glow rests against the horizon. The snow has stopped, and the world seems still. The McCormick house is quiet, only the background noise of a laugh track on the television and the house settling break through. Kyle is out like a light beside Stan, and Kenny and Butters are curled up against the wall, dead to the world.

"You awake, Stan?" Kenny mumbles, his eyes still closed.

Stan clears his throat and responds, "Yeah."

"We should have B-Movie Saturday still," he says, "But maybe it can be Pantless B-Movie Saturday."

Stan laughs and Kyle stirs beside him. When he opens his eyes and sees Stan stretching above him, he smiles.

Kenny disentangles his body from Butters' and turns on the tiny TV that sits across from his narrow mattress. He holds up the case of a terrible-looking horror movie that Kyle will complain about all the way through, and somehow the moment couldn't have been more perfect.

These are his best friends, Stan thinks. He loves them more than he knows how to put into words.

And they're the only people that he can have Pantless B-Movie Saturday with.