What He Isn't
She holds the boy against her chest; her thin arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Nose and lips buried in dark hair. He sighs, shuddering. She can feel it vibrating through her own body as well. "You have to promise me," he whispers. "You won't do anything like this ever again."
His hand ghosts lightly over her breasts, testing her. She doesn't know if she passed or failed, but his hand cups the left through her shirt. Lips flit against her neck, pressing down for barely seconds. She extends her neck. Craning it to look at the boy whose body is curved around her. Their lips meet.
"I promise, baby," she murmurs.
He kisses quickly, which is new to her. She responds with enthusiasm because she is curious and drunker than she thinks. His skin is so soft and she can feel his nose brush against her cheek. A giggle leaves her lips.
"What?" he asks. The room is so dark she can barely see his lips moving.
This is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. She tells herself. But it feels so good. "Nothing. Your nose. It tickles."
If it was light, he would be blushing. "Sorry."
"I like it," she promises, pulling his mouth back to hers.
The raven haired boy turns, breaking her arms from around his shoulders. "Why did you want to hurt me?"
His clear blue eyes are sadder than she has ever seen. On anyone. She swears she can actually feel her heart breaking. "I didn't do it to hurt you. That wasn't why," she whispers.
He doesn't believe her and his head shakes. "Then, why?"
"I was angry with you—
He runs a thumb along her cheek, cupping her face in a hand so much larger than the other boy's. She struggles to remember the last time she felt this special, the last time she felt so wanted. "He never touches me like this," she sighs.
"I've wanted to do this for so long," he replies.
-I was lonely—
She is sitting on the couch, having gotten too drunk, too fast and she's just kind of tired. "How're things with Stan?" he asks.
"We had a fight this morning. I haven't seen him in 2 weeks. I don't know."
He pulls her under his arm and she relishes at the touch. She missed it. "I think he loves you as much as he can."
The dark haired girl is unsure of what this means, but it makes her sad.
-and, I guess I was kind of curious –
When his hand slides under her leggings, she knows without a doubt she should ask him to stop. This is too far and she will feel too guilty.
She doesn't ask him to stop.
His fingers slide in and out of her. It isn't gentle or cautious. And he didn't ask her first.
This boy is aggressive and forward and so, so different than she has become accustomed to. No matter how many times she mentions it, the other boy will not be like this with her.
Not really sure what she is doing, but trying to follow suit, she scratches her fingernails down his back.
-We weren't even really together."
"This feels really good," he slurs into her ear. "But, I feel bad 'cause of, you know, Stan." He continues to press kisses along her neck and she is certain nothing has ever felt so amazing.
Stifling moans is hard. "It's fine. I don't have to tell him everything. I'm allowed to hook up with other people."
His cock, which she knows is….lengthy, having seen it during a game of strip poker last summer, brushes against her. A moan escapes.
"Don't you dare give me that, bullshit," the boy exclaims. "You know this is not who I thought you'd be deciding to hook up with. You realize you ruined my life, right? I can't even look in my best friend's general direction without wanting to kill him. You fucked everything up because you were lonely? I was coming home in a goddamn day!"
She bows her head. There's nothing to say. Nothing that won't hurt this wonderful boy, whom she is sure she loves in some way, even more.
Stan was her first everything, for the most part. And she is so, so happy. Most of the time. Sometimes, she just can't help but wonder what else is out there and whether it's better than what she already has. Is it even possible to be happy with the same person forever?
He pauses, breathless, and laughs slightly. "You're getting teethy, Testabitch."
"Sorry," she whines. She doesn't bite Stan that much because he's always worried it'll fuck up the tooth that got chipped two summers ago. The raven haired girl is impatient. She can't remember the last time she wanted so badly.
"How far did you want this to go?" he asks.
She shrugs. She doesn't know. She knows that it should've gone nowhere. But it did. So what now? Tentatively, with fingers that seem to know how stupid she's being, she shimmies down his boxers.
She can't even imagine what that would feel like inside of her.
And she doesn't find out.
The boy reaches for her hand and she takes his. Tears are clouding her gray eyes. She's never been so confused in her entire life.
"I cannot lose you. I can't. It'd be worse without you. You're going to be mine now. Only mine. Nobody else's," he states.
She nods. She can do that. She deserves that.
"If you do something like this again, I will not be able to take it," he reminds her. "Please never do this to me again."
Wiping tears out of her eyes, the girl nods again. It's a small price to pay for breaking his heart. Stan Marsh is the first boy, the only boy, she's ever loved. Even if she's not sure how she feels anymore. Even if she sometimes feels that they lack passion, he is still one of the most important people in her world. She doubts that will ever change. "I won't."
His car pulls up in front of her house. They sit there in silence. It's not awkward, it's casual. She feels like maybe they've regained that friendship they once had. She likes the sound of that. "Thanks for the ride," she says, opening the door.
"Hey, ho?" She turns. "That was some of the best head I've ever had."
She snorts. Typical of him to leave it like that.
"Can I get one more?" he asks, reaching to cup her face as he now knows she likes. At this point, one kiss is practically nothing. She figures.
Their lips press together for probably the last time ever. Her eyelids flutter, wanting it to last longer. She doesn't regret this night. She got to see a side of him that so few others have and it was a pleasant surprise. He pulls away first. "Thanks, Wendy."
She smiles, happy to let her name coming from his lips be the last surprise of the night, and shakes her mane of pitch black hair over her shoulder. "Bye, Cartman."
A/N: Based on personal experience, since I'm an awful person. I just got up the courage to finish it and post. Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it :)