Stan reached out and grabbed the plastic rectangle that was clutched in Kyle's bony fingers.
"How'd you get it, dude? I always got ID'd."
He ran his hands lovingly over the shiny new Xbox game. It was simply beautiful.
"My mom needed to go into Denver and I had to go with her, but I saw this little corner shop and it was in there! I picked it up, took it to the guy and he totally served me."
Stan looked at his friend with a smile on his lips.
The green hat that Stan had known for years stared at him, along with a slightly freckled face and green eyes. The hat was funny now though because it only just fit Kyle, and his unruly red hair now stuck out in tufts. Stan was surprised that he still wore it. It was a small symbol of their childhood that Kyle was reluctant to let go of. Kinda like Kenny and his damned orange parka.
"Well let's freakin' play dude!" said Stan, getting up from his bed and walking the two strides to his small T.V and his shiny black Xbox.
He put the disc in and handed the second controller to his best friend, who was now sprawled on his stomach across Stan's bed.
Stan huffed and Kyle smiled sweetly in response. Stan pouted before sitting himself on the floor instead.
It was already quarter to eight when Kyle arrived and before they had reached level ten, the bedroom door opened and Stan's mom popped her head around the frame.
"It's almost eleven, Stanley."
"No it's ok, mom. Kyle's gonna stay."
His mom narrowed her eyes at the boys, silently questioning that it was a school night. Stan gave his mom the 'what?' look. Sharon shook her head and looked at Kyle.
"Let your mom know, Kyle."
"OK Mrs Marsh."
Stan saw his mom smile slightly before the door closed behind her with a slight click.
The boys played on the Xbox late into the night, only stopping when they saw the sky lightening. Stan stood up and stretched. His hands almost touched the ceiling. He had gotten so lanky in his maturity. He easily towered over all of his friends, even Kenny.
He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and kicked off his jeans, not even sparing a glance for his friend. They had known each other since they had been born so body issues had never been a problem. There were lines, of course. No weird shit like that. But Kyle was a lot shyer than Stan and chose instead to keep his shirt and jeans on. Stan frowned.
"Dude that can't be comfortable," said Stan, looking at the jeans.
Kyle shrugged and kicked back Stan's covers. His friend slipped into the blue sheets without another word, putting his hat on the stand by the bed.
Stan watched as Kyle turned his back to him and pulled the covers over himself. He noted that the boy had scooted up enough so that Stan would be able to get in the bed as well. It was only when he knew Kyle wasn't looking that he let himself shift from foot to foot uneasily.
The idea of sleeping in the same bed was a simple one. Not complicated. At all.
But they were sixteen now. Was it weird?
Stan's mind flashed back four years. Kyle, Kenny, Cartman and himself were pulling an all-nighter at his house and when they finally decided to go to sleep, Stan climbed onto his bed where Kyle was lying and shuffled under the covers. He had looked up to see Cartman frowning at them.
"Dude, you're fucking fags."
Stan had looked at Kyle, who mirrored his confused expression, before looking back at Cartman. He saw Kenny watching them with this glassy-eyed expression that always put Stan on edge. Kyle had slowly climbed from the bed and unravelled his sleeping bag.
Cartman had continued to make fag jokes for the rest of the night, but Stan had been uneasy. So weirded-out that he hadn't been able to sleep.
Was that what people thought?
Even now, looking at the empty space behind Kyle, Stan felt weird. He knew that at a certain point, people had to grow up. But there was nothing wrong with being comfortable around a dude that was practically a fucking brother.
Stan crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them.
"Dude, just fucking go to sleep."
Stan frowned at Kyle's hostile tone. It was the tone that he usually reserved for Cartman.
A sudden anger flared up in his chest. What a dick.
He got to his knees and reached under his bed, grabbing at his sleeping bag and then unravelling it by the bed. He yanked a pillow nastily from under Kyle's head and then climbed into the bag with his back to the redhead.
The few hours they had asleep felt like they were gone in a heartbeat. His mom was banging on the door, telling them to get up right now. Stan opened his eyes slowly, feeling the weight of sleep holding them down. He moaned and then yawned. It was only as he moved his head that he felt something touching his hair.
He frowned and looked up to see Kyle's hand embedded in his black mop. He felt the urge to move away, but he didn't. Instead he looked up and the bed and saw half of Kyle's face on the edge of the mattress, his mouth slightly open and curls covering his eye.
He didn't know if it was because he was tired, or that he couldn't see straight, but Stan thought, very briefly, that he kinda liked someone touching his hair.
The thought made him start and he jerked himself out of Kyle's grasp. The violent movement had Kyle sucking in a short breath and rolling over, moaning.
Stan got to his feet and rubbed his face, feeling totally weirded-out again. He felt suddenly so exposed in just his boxers. The room was surprisingly cold.
Before Kyle had sat up, Stan was yanking on the same jeans. He grabbed his deodorant that was sat on his dresser, spraying himself unconditionally, and then rummaging through his draw to find a clean T.
"Dude, can I borrow a shirt?"
Stan looked up and jumped, seeing how close Kyle had got without him noticing. The redhead frowned at him before Stan looked away grumpily. He mumbled something incoherent before chucking another T at Kyle from his draw.
Without another word, Stan stormed from the room.
His mom was making breakfast. He could smell the pop-tarts being toasted and hear the tinny noise of the radio.
He walked into the bright kitchen, yawning. His mom was in her fluffy pink robe and matching slippers, humming along to a song whilst buttering bread. His dad was leaning back in a small chair around a little table, holding a steaming mug and reading the front of his paper.
He wore his usual light blue shirt and dark jeans.
"Morning Stanley," said his mom, passing him a plate with two pop-tarts on.
He sat heavily in a chair and looked at the glistening pastries, smothered in pink icing and oozing jam. He grimaced.
"Oh, morning Kyle," chimed his mom. Stan was suddenly incredibly interested in his pop-tarts, cramming one into his mouth. The heat of the jam burnt his entire mouth, bringing tears to his eyes, but he didn't spit them out. Instead he chocked a little and then reached for the OJ his mom put down for him.
"Don't be a pig, Stan," said his dad half-heartedly.
He saw Kyle sit down in his peripheral vision, but he didn't look up, instead silently pushing the other pop-tart his friend's way.
He saw Kyle make the same face he just had. It made him smile, which sent jam oozing from his mouth. Stan saw Kyle smirk, which made him laugh even more. Crumbs spat across the table, hitting his dad's paper.
The tension drained from his body as the boys laughed stupidly. His parents ignored them, completely used to their strange ways.
The boys ate quickly and then grabbed their backpacks by the door. Stan called bye to his parents, as did Kyle, grabbed their coats and walked out into the crisp morning air.
The small town was already in full swing. Cars sped down the road, mostly being driven by douchebag seniors. The two boys found a rhythm with their conversation, describing in detail how many zombies they had managed to kill the night before. They made their way slowly up the street, watching the other students leaving their homes. The girls were usually together, whereas Butters left his house and walked alone.
Stan watched the blond while Kyle babbled on about the homework that was due on Friday.
The blond turned and smiled excitedly when he saw them. Stan smiled, feeling suddenly sorry for the boy. He always got shit from people.
Butters jogged over to them. "Hey fellers!"
Well, he was kind of a fag. His hair was in a tuft on top of his head, and he wore a really tight sweatshirt, and tight pants. He had his backpack over both shoulders rather than slung awesomely over one, like Stan.
But he guessed Butters was OK. He had it rough.
Kyle looked questioningly at Stan before turning to Butters and giving him a quick smile.
"Are you walking to the bus? 'Cos I'm going to the bus. We can get the bus together."
Stan saw Kyle frown. "Sure, dude."
"Cartman will be there, though." Butters looked at Stan, the excitement completely wiped from his face.
"O-Oh. OK, I'll uh, I'll get the bus from the main stop. See you later, fellers!"
"Bye Butters," said the boys in unison.
The watched as Butters jogged across the street where a multitude of students were crowded together. Stan could see all their friends there. Token, Jimmy, Bebe, Craig, Clyde, Tweak…
Stan tilted his head and studied her. She had her straight, raven hair down and it spilled around her shoulders like satin. She didn't have her usual purple cap on, instead adorning fluffy white earmuffs to protect against the cold. She wore tight dark jeans and he couldn't help but stare at that perky ass.
"Dude, you listening?"
Stan turned to see Kyle glaring at him. The redhead frowned, glanced over to the crowd and then shrugged.
"What were you saying, dude?"
He shrugged again. "Forget it."
Stan frowned, confused by his friend's behaviour. He rubbed his forehead and then pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been one confusing morning.
They walked quickly past the big group and further up the main road.
He never really knew why they decided to wait at the other stop for the bus. They had done so ever since the third grade. One morning they were doing something, he couldn't even remember what, and they had caught the bus further on. Miss Crabtree had stopped for them, and after that, they just got on the bus there every morning.
The snow lined each side of the black road and the mountains stood tall in the distance. The sky was turning a bluish-grey and it was cold enough that Stan could see his own breath. He could already see Kenny's orange parka by the Stop sign.
"Morning dudes," said Stan. Kenny blinked sleepily at them while Cartman continued to shovel something into his mouth.
"Forgot your second breakfast, fat-ass?" asked Kyle, so nonchalant that Stan giggled.
Cartman frowned, "Fuck you, Jew-boy. At least I don't have a face like a hooker's vag."
"No, but you got enough chins for the four of us."
"Ey! I will kick you in the nuts!"
Stan yawned as their bickering faded from his mind. After so many years of the same shit, he had learned how to block it out. He looked at Kenny.
Kenny turned his bright blue eyes to Stan. "Nothin', you?"
"Not really. Oh, we got Hayblade yesterday."
"What? No fucking way," snapped Cartman. Kyle gave him a smug smile.
"Yep, and its mine."
Cartman's face took a pink tinge to it as he realised that Kyle would never let him play. He then proceeded to grumble.
They spent the rest of their time with Stan talking to Kenny about Hayblade and Cartman trying to appeal to Kyle's better side. A side that had never faced Cartman.
"Dude this sucks ass."
Stan smiled, although he had to agree.
The grass under his feet was slick from the snow and his muscles were burning from the exercise. Coach barked another order at them, making them pick up the pace as they ran from pitch to pitch, wearing their full football gear.
Their team were in training for the upcoming game against Denver State, and coach was kicking their ass. Usually the training he was doing would piss him off, but it was almost worth it to see Cartman trying to jog up and down the pitch.
He was still a complete fat-ass, but after so many years of playing football, he had become a tank. He was the best _ they had because not only was he fat, but that fat was now solid muscle. He had sent Kenny to hospital one time after a rough tackle. Stan was sometimes glad that he was on Cartman's good side, because that dude could kick some serious ass. Luckily, Cartman wasn't that aware of his own strength and had thus not begun to throw it around. Well, not anymore than usual.
He saw small red curls sticking out from under Kyle's helmet as they jogged side-by-side.
"Again! One two, one two!"
"Dude, I can't keep doing this."
"I know. I think my lungs are going to explode."
Kyle laughed at him.
Stan was surprised that Kyle had continued playing football after fifth grade. He was lanky and bony, with not much to him at all, and he really wasn't into sports. The only game he really watched was basketball.
But their high school didn't have a basketball team, so Kyle tried out for the football team and got in. As did Stan, Cartman and Kenny. It was a good way for them to blow off steam and despite the effort, they enjoyed it. Stan had made quarterback, Cartman to tackle, Kenny linebacker and Kyle stayed as a cornerback.
Stan jogged forward again, but he was getting very close to stopping. He saw his teammates were just as beat as he was. After three hours of training, people needed to sit.
Just as his legs were about to snap, the angels sang.
Well, coach blew the whistle.
The team were running to the showers before coach had even dismissed them. Stan threw his gear into his locker, practically half naked before Kyle had taken off his helmet. He reached into his black gym bag for his towel and wrapped his lower self before taking off the rest of his clothing. The room was silent as the exhaustion washed around them like mist. Stan hovered for a second, his tiredness clearing his mind of further instructions.
"Alright, I'll see you later dudes."
Stan opened his eyes to see Kyle slinging his gear over his shoulder and his bag over the other. He was fully clothed, even wearing his hat, although the sweat was making his curls stick to his face. Stan nodded at him.
It wasn't unusual for Kyle not to shower at school. Although everyone in the team got over that fact, Cartman still had something to say every time.
"What's wrong, Jew? Too much of a fag you can't shower without splooging?"
Cartman laughed at his own terrible joke, but it was half-hearted. Stan smiled at Cartman's face. He knew it was a bad hit, but no one cared. Kyle gently punched Stan's shoulder before leaving the locker room.
Stan yawned before walking slowly into the shower room. The area was made of tiles and cheap shower heads protruded from the wall and the only thing separating them were flimsy half-walls that barely came up to Stan's stomach.
He dragged himself to a cubicle, put his towel over the small wall-thing and turned on the shower. He hissed as freezing water cascaded over his head. He jumped back but kept his hand under the stream until the water became warmer. Finally, he let the water wash over him. He sighed in content, standing hunched and letting the water unravel his sore muscles.
Stan heard the rest of the team shuffling in, and as the heat warmed them, the energy started to come back.
Laughter rippled through the group and Stan smiled as Clyde started telling a dirty joke.
"Uh-oh, don't drop your soap guys."
Stan frowned at Token's remark, and he only understood it when he glanced behind. Kenny stood in the doorway, his blond hair sticking up in all directions. He had a dark towel wrapped around his waist and his white chest bare.
The group laughed but Stan could hear the nervousness behind it.
He watched curiously to see what Kenny would make of the remark. He expected Kenny to get pissed, but then again – it was Kenny.
Kenny raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah dudes don't drop your soap…" he grabbed the towel around his waist and yanked it free, baring his body to all. "Cos I'll fuck you all."
There was a chorus of 'aww dude!' and 'weak!'
Stan chuckled, but he found himself shifting from one foot to another. He turned back to the face the wall, rubbing his head under the water.
He glanced quickly behind him again and saw Kenny walking towards the cubicle next to him. He snapped his head back around, but something moved in his vision, bringing his attention back to Kenny.
Who was now right next to him.
Kenny smiled at him and gave him a wink before turning on his own shower. Stan shifted nervously before rubbing his arms to get the worst of the dirt off. When he was partially clean, he turned off his shower and grabbed his towel, leaving the guys behind and Cartman making some remark about Kenny's only shower of the week.
In the empty locker room, Stan breathed out.
He rubbed his face and sat on the bench, which was a mistake as his muscles decided that they wanted to stay. He decided to give himself a second.
It was hard to be around Kenny sometimes. Especially after… well, after Marshall.
Kenny had always been a strange one. He was normal in most ways, especially with girls and boobs, but one time when they were eight the four of them had gone through a 'metrosexual' stage. They were pretty much straight queers. Yet even after they had gotten over the fad, Kenny had been a little different. He had even confided in Stan once that he thought he was gay.
The idea evaporated of course after Kenny met Tammy Warner. They were together for years, and Kenny had even had sex with her when he was thirteen. But it didn't last, and when he was fourteen, Kenny made a new friend; Marshall Rhode. He was in the year above them, and one of the coolest kids in school. There were rumours however that Marshall was a bisexual.
Kenny had spent almost every waking day with Marshall, completely ignoring the group. After a while though, Kenny suddenly stopped hanging around with him.
Marshall completely blanked him and Kenny had come crawling back.
The three of them had faced him, ready to shun him, but then they saw the look on his face. Kenny had been completely broken.
They had let him back in without a word. Even Cartman didn't rip on him about it.
It took Kenny a long time to get back to himself, but he never told them what had happened. The only clue Stan had been one drunken night a year later; Kenny admitted he had 'broke-up' with Marshall. It was something that could mean anything, but Stan got the feeling it was more.
After that, Kenny had started exploring his options. He had a few girlfriends, a few new guyfriends, and by the time they were fifteen, Kenny admitted he was bi. It didn't come as a shock, but a few people were weird around him for a while. Yet Kenny just took it in his stride and now people seemed to be totally cool with it.
Now it was just who Kenny was. But it still weirded Stan out sometimes. It was usually when he was completely open about it. Stan felt bad about the way he felt, he was no gay-basher, but he couldn't help the way he felt.
He was cool with it. He could deal with it – when it wasn't aimed at him.
"You OK dude?"
Stan jumped at the sudden interruption in his thoughts. He looked up and blinked.
Kenny gave him a lop-sided smile. His hair was flat on his head and it was so long now that it came over his eyes. Stan saw the water still dripping down his face. He felt himself glance down quickly and was relieved to see Kenny had the towel wrapped around him.
Stan smiled quickly. "Yeah, dude."
He got reluctantly to his feet and dressed quickly.
"So 'X' is forty-two?"
Wendy sighed in frustration. She yanked the pencil from his hand and used the eraser to remove the numbers from his notebook. She then again proceeded to explain algebra to him. It was futile because Stan found himself staring at her lips. They were a soft peach and had a small curve to them which made her look lovely even when she wasn't smiling. She had a thin layer of chapstick on them which smelt like peaches.
"And that leaves… Stan? Stan are you even listening to me?"
Her lips had curved into a pout and he found himself smiling. He followed the curve of her jaw up her smooth, pale cheeks until he was looking into her deep blue eyes. Her dark lashes framed them, and being so close he could see the blend of colour inside. They were outlined with a light grey, making them even more striking.
They were lying on their stomachs side-by-side with Stan's homework by their heads. Wendy's bed was small enough that they had to be touching. He didn't mind, her warmth had him feeling so relaxed that he could sleep.
He blinked, bringing his concentration back.
"Are you listening to me?"
He smirked. "Always."
She scoffed and sat up angrily. He chuckled, turning and sitting up. She moved to stand up when he reached out and grabbed her hips. He pulled her back onto the bed and wrestled her down, letting his hands run over her sides until she was squealing and laughing.
She lay on her back with her hair splayed around her like a dark halo. He lay on his side, propping himself over her with his elbow.
She pouted at him. "You still have to do your homework."
"It can wait."
He leant down and brushed her lips with his own. She smiled against him before opening her mouth, letting his tongue run gently over hers. Stan breathed her in deeply, loving the way she felt next to him. Her lips tasted like peaches, fruity and vibrant.
He rested his hand gently on her hip and as their kiss deepened, he slowly moved it up, letting it slip under the thin material of her tank.
Her skin was wonderfully soft and as he moved it further, he felt her body arch closer to his. The blood pumped desperately through him, and he felt his erection straining against her jeans. He moaned as her hand touched the exposed skin on his back.
"Stan…" she breathed. He couldn't tell if it was a warning or encouragement.
So he decided to push his luck.
He moved his hand further up until he cupped the tender flesh of her breast. Her breathing hitched but she didn't break the kiss. His mind raced as his thoughts started to become foggy. He moved his hand slowly, gently caressing her, but his lust was driving him.
He lifted his knee and carefully put it on her lap, slowly prying open her legs.
She gasped and their kiss broke. She opened her eyes and he stared down into them, seeing her eyes had clouded over just like his.
"We… we can't…"
He leant down again, covering her lips with his own. She hesitated briefly before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Stan felt the tension in his body. The urge to part of her legs and lie on her was overwhelming, but he felt something niggling in the back of his mind.
Ever since they were small, Kenny had been their expert sex advisor. He had taught them everything and anything about women, whether they wanted to learn or not, and he knew that pushing sex on Wendy would make her feel trapped.
He also knew that she was a virgin, just as he was. She needed to be stimulated and from what little he knew, it took a lot to get a girl going.
He moved his hand from her boob and gently cupped her cheek. She moaned against his lips and he felt her body move closer to his. His heart hammered against his chest as he let his hand start to drift down her neck, her throat, her wonderful tits, her stomach and awesome hips until they rested on the button of her jeans.
She gasped and her hand grabbed his. Her eyes opened wide with alarm and she pulled away from him.
"Shh…" he cooed. He leant down to her ear and gently nibbled her lobe. "Trust me."
She didn't let go of his hand but he felt her body relax into the bed again. He let her hold the back of his hand as he carefully popped the button and drew the zip down. Her breathing hitched and she gave him wide-eyes. He kept his eyes on her and let his finger hook around her jeans and panties, touching her soft skin.
She blinked and he saw her body was rigid.
"I can stop."
She swallowed but quickly shook her head. "Be… be gentle."
He smiled and leant down, kissing her sweetly. He moved his hand down confidently but his heart still rapped against his ribcage. He knew he was shaking and the adrenaline was pumping so quickly around his body that his head was swimming.
He felt his hand jerk as the first of her soft curls touched his fingertip.
Their kiss broke but he pushed his hand further until letting one finger slowly slide into the warmth of her centre. She gasped again and closed her eyes. Her hands were digging into his back and he was afraid that he had hurt her. He moved his finger gently up and down, caressing her.
It took a few minutes, but his whole body sang as she breathed out. He felt her body relax on the bed again and her grip loosened on his back.
He continued to rub her, taking longer and longer stroke. She moved slowly, breathing shallow breaths. He didn't think she was enjoying it until she raised her hips and opened her legs, giving him more access. He took the opportunity to slowly move his finger down and down until it slipped into her core.
She gave a small cry which turned into a moan. He smiled, watching the expressions on her face. She kept her eyes closed but her lips parted. She pouted and frowned, but when she bit her lower lip he felt heat rip through him.
He leant his head down to hers and kissed her, but it was nothing like before. He felt her lust against it now. She nipped his lip teasingly, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt his whole body screaming at him. He could feel himself being driven closer and closer to the edge, and he didn't like that idea. He didn't want to become some sex-obsessed freak. He just wanted to show her that she could enjoy his touch. Her hands came up and into his hair. She wrapped it around his tangled mess, gripping it slightly. The jolt of force was like a spark. He pulled away from her front and wrapped his arm around her body.
He sifted his weight until he was kneeling between her legs. She continued to kiss him furiously and he felt himself touching her wherever he could. His hands slipped up her back, pulling up her top.
"Stan… I, I need… I need to feel you."
He groaned, grabbing her top and pulling it up. They parted long enough for him to pull it over her arms. He held her away from him, admiring her lusciously curved body. The strain in his jeans was getting to the point where it was painful. He felt like he was going to explode.
He jumped in surprise as she reached over and grabbed the edge of his T. with surprising force, she pulled it up and over his head, chucking it on the floor.
They came together on their knees. He sucked in a breath and the feel of her skin to his. She was burning, igniting the flame in his blood.
He felt her tugging at his belt. He tied to focus on it. He wanted to make sure she was sure, but she was already pulling his belt open. He slipped his hands easily down her hips, pulling her jeans with him.
He held his breath as he saw her black laced panties.
"Oh, god, Wend…"
She copied his move, pushing down his jeans. Stan leant down and buried his face in the nape of her neck. He couldn't describe what was coming over him but he knew that nothing could sate him now more than Wendy. He moved uneasily as she pushed his jeans down, exposing his boxers. He worried his lower lip as she looked at… him.
He took her chin and made her look into his eyes.
"Wend, we can stop."
She smiled nervously before cupping his face in her hands.
"I'm tired of being scared. I've loved you pretty much all my life and there's no one I trust more."
He leant forward and kissed her again, slowly moving their bodied back down onto the bed. He pulled her jeans off, but not without a struggle. They caught on her socks and he had to wrestle them away. He heard her giggle. It was her nervous giggle.
He felt his stomach churning at what they were doing. Was he really here, lying half naked with his girlfriend? Or was he just dreaming it?
Something brushed his shaft, making his whole body jerk.
"Here," she whispered. He watched as she leant over to her bedside table, pulled open the draw and dug around. Finally she pulled out a shiny blue box. He watched with a smile as she opened it and pulled out a foil square. He saw her hands were trembling as she passed it to him.
"Stan. Shut. Up."
And he did.