Disclaimer: South Park, all South Park characters, settings, and events belong to the makers of South Park, Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Sometimes, I just like to play with the grown-up versions of their boys.
(A/N): SURPRISE! I'm giving my lovely readers a filler to keep them satisfied until I decide to update whichever story I choose next (which will probably be San Diego). I would like to thank some reviewers for Yellow-Haired, Blue-Eyed Bunnies who didn't (or couldn't) allow me to respond back to them:
reviewreviewreview (lol, nice name btw)- thank you SO much for the review you left me. It made me laugh so hard and then go "Awww, how sweet!" For you, I shall continue that story.
Kay 25- You may or may not be correct. I actually haven't even decided what's about to happen, yet.
Sharkie- Thank you! I try to keep the sex to a minimum… Just a shit-load of teasing, am I right?
And a very special thank you to d r a m a t i s . e c h o who gave me a very loving review that I will forever cherish. I Love You!
ENJOY.
It had been a long day at work and he couldn't wait to get home where he could drink the rest of the night away.
He was stuck with the most irritating of the four managers on top of having the night shift for the third time that week. By the time the end of his shift neared, he was vibrating with apprehension, anxious to get the hell out of the store before he had another anxiety attack. Lately, they've been sneaking up on him out of nowhere without any explanation as to why and that only made him more nervous. His eyes kept flickering to the clock on the wall across from him every few seconds as he sat on the large desk in the office, waiting for his manager to get the fuck done so he could get the fuck out. He jumped when said manager suddenly spun around in his chair with a smile that would be kind on any other person's face but his. It just made him look even more like a creeper. Clyde hesitantly smiled back and slid off the edge of the desk, picking up his car keys in his left hand.
"Got all of your things?" Chris, the manager, asked as he turned back around to sort various papers into envelopes, cleaning the desktop off of trash and writing utensils.
"Yeah, I'm ready when you are, I guess," Clyde responded, needlessly holding up his car keys to show to the back of Chris's head.
The phone in his back pocket vibrated and his hand automatically reached behind him to pull it out.
When are you coming home? I'm lonely.
The message was from Token and he smiled softly as he texted his best friend/roommate back with quick fingers, sliding the phone back into his pocket before his manager even turned around.
They've been living together in an apartment for a year now, moved out of South Park all together to be closer to their college campus. Clyde worked 5 days a week for slightly-better-than-minimum-wage to pay a quarter of the rent every month and to buy groceries every other week (they switched off to keep the payments equal). Token's parents had given their only son a massive amount of money for his savings and even offered to pay for their electricity and water bills for the first two years to help the two boys slowly adjust to responsibility. Clyde had to admit, their money really did help him and Token stay afloat for the first rough year, and now that they've got the general hang of it, Token's parents were gradually weaning them of their help. Hence, the shitty job with the idiot manager.
"You can go ahead and clock out. I'm done here." Every time the fat man opened his mouth, Clyde had the irresistible urge to punch him in his stupid face. Instead, he nodded and threw the heavy office door open, typing his associate I.D. into the electronic gadget stationed outside the office.
Twirling his keys around his index finger, Clyde leaned against one of the shelves and patiently waited for The Idiot to get his belongings so that they could lock up the store for the night. A few minutes passed before his annoying face reappeared and the two walked side by side to the front. Chris typed in the security code while Clyde waited by the closed sliding doors, flicking the dead bolt open when he heard the alarm beep it's 'ready' tone. Tossing a 'goodbye' over his shoulder, Clyde practically ran to his car, jamming his key into the ignition once the door was open. He didn't even pause in buckling his seat belt as he yanked the car into reverse, rolling out of his parking spot just far enough to turn his car around and his tires squealed softly as they spun to keep up with his hurried driving.
The usual 15 minute drive to the apartment only took him 6 minutes in the near-to-none traffic, flying through the green lights before they decided to change to yellow and passing the lone drivers that decided going the speed limit at 10 o'clock on a Friday night was proper etiquette. Once at the apartment complex, he took the steps two at a time and was panting by the time he reached his designated door. The number 248 glared at him on the painted-green door and his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Something was different about the door.
"Shit, I'm on the wrong floor, again," Clyde muttered under his breath as he took off down the hall and up another flight of stairs, this time reading the numbers carefully to make sure he got the right apartment.
His keys jingled melodically as he wretched open the (correct) apartment door, eyes immediately falling upon a bare-chested Token who was lounging on the couch, an Xbox controller in one hand and an open can of beer in the other.
Without even glancing in Clyde's direction he said, "You went to the wrong apartment again, didn't you?"
"Shut up. Where's my best friend, Jimmy Bean?" Clyde asked, rummaging through their alcoholic closet. It started as storage space for extra food, but eventually they started buying more liquor than food and ended up with a closet full of alcohol.
"Middle shelf, behind the tequila," Token responded, engulfed in his video games once more.
After finding his preferred poison, Clyde placed a tall shot glass on the counter in front of him, filling it to the point where the liquid threatened to spill over the edges at the slightest movement. Quick and easy, he thought to himself as he downed the shot in one go, shuddering at the god awful taste while he poured another shot, this time pouring one for his roommate as well. Carefully carrying them across the room to the couch, he placed the overflowing shot glasses on the beat up coffee table before seating himself close enough to Token that their shoulders and thighs were touching.
"Bad day at work?" Token inquired as he eyed the shot glasses, momentarily distracted from his video game.
"I was with the idiot all night. I'm so strung up that my back feels like there's a knife lodged between my shoulder blades." Clyde rubbed at the aforementioned spot with the tips of his fingers, unable to comfortably work the knots out of his muscles.
Token paused his game and reached forward to pick up the shot glasses, handing one to his best friend, clinking their glasses together carefully, "To coming home to awesome friends who give award-winning massages."
Clyde smirked before he swallowed the burning liquid, squirming in his seat when the familiar fire of alcohol spread throughout his body in pleasurable waves. Pushing off of Token's fabric covered thigh, Clyde stood up from the comfy couch and walked back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, but before he could open the fridge, expert fingers dug mercilessly into the tense muscles of his shoulders. A startled moan slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it and his head fell forward to rest against the front of the refrigerator, his fingers still grasping the handle loosely as he stood there helplessly. Token's thumbs were pure magic as they coaxed the tight knots into relaxation and Clyde mentally reprimanded himself for almost pushing his body against the warmth behind him. He didn't feel Token move closer until the front of the older boy's hips grazed his arse and he nearly choked on the air in his lungs when his best friend's lips brushed across the back of his neck. A bare foot nudged between his sock-clad ones and he spread his legs obediently to allow Token's leg between them. Dark-skinned fingers skimmed down Clyde's back to slither up his thin tee-shirt before magic-laced thumbs resumed their methodic massaging, working out the stubborn knots in Clyde's lower back.
"Token," the brunette moaned quietly, hips twitching, "S'good. If you stop, I will punch you in yer face."
Token laughed quietly against the skin of Clyde's neck and mockingly murmured, "For just $19.95 a month you can upgrade to the deluxe version for the full enjoyable experience."
"Do you take debit?" Clyde sighed.
Token's fingers unraveled a particularly painful knot at the base of his spine and Clyde groaned appreciatively, arching his back slightly to give his best friend more access to his body.
"Fuck debit, I'll just sign all my paychecks over to you," he amended and Token's baritone laugh sent shivers racing up and down his partially exposed spine.
Calloused palms smoothed a few more inches up the brunette's back and when they found a spot that forced slim hips to jerk backwards, they tortured it cruelly until moans spilled uninhibited from a sinfully innocent mouth. Clyde gasped in surprised when Token's chest pressed flush against his back to pin him to the fridge, panic spiking through him when the fingers that were doing gloriously things to his muscles slid around him to grip his hips.
"Tok-…Wh-what are you- oh."
Token kissed the shorter boy on the neck with an open mouth, allowing his white teeth to scrape across smooth, warm skin. Taking advantage of Clyde's moment of disorientation, he yanked his best friend's shirt up and over his head and hissed quietly when his naked chest collided with Clyde's bare back.
"This isn't- We shouldn't- Token, stop. I can't do thi- shit," Clyde failed at completing any of his sentences and finally submitted to whatever his dark-skinned companion had in store for him.
With one a hand wrapped around the base of his roommate's hardening cock and the other firmly grasping Clyde's jaw, Token murmured, "You wanted the deluxe version; this is it. Now, shut the fuck up and let me make you feel better."
Pulling Clyde away from the fridge, Token turned him around to face him and pushed the brunette backwards until his bum was resting on the edge of the waist-high counter. Long fingers slid up Token's stomach and chest to twine around the ends of his long, silky hair. The hair that wasn't braided tight against his scalp fluffed over Token's forehead and fell into his eyes as he stared down into Clyde's chocolate brown ones, glazed over from a sudden intake of alcohol. He shifted his gaze to pink, pouting lips, automatically leaning down to shove his tongue into the mouth of the startled boy beneath him. A tortured moan drags out of the smaller boy's throat and Token thrusts his hips forward to rub his arousal against a taut stomach. His fingers creep along Clyde's abdominals, gently pressing into the hard muscles to elicit more delectable noises from his best friend's mouth.
Token broke the kiss with a long lick to Clyde's jaw line and paused at his ear to whisper, "I told you I would make you feel better. We haven't even gotten started yet."
Brown eyes snapped open at that statement before another groan left Clyde's mouth, his neck giving out to let his head fall back between his shoulders while Token sucked harshly at the skin of his throat and collarbone.
Token stopped the tormenting of his beloved roommate to chastise his choice in position, "Don't let your head fall back like that. You'll get a kink in your neck and we'll have to start all over again."
(A/N): The picture I based Token's hair: (probably won't be able to see the link if you aren't signed in) http:/yaoi . y-gallery . net/view/601116/
I LOVE that you guys are reading my stories and making them your favorite, sometimes alerting them as well. However, I can't help but be disappointed in the laughably small amount of reviews I've received. Do you guys hate my work that much? (edit: I guess you don't hate my work, y'all are just lazy! MOVE YO' FINGERS! Love you.) I would be absolutely ecstatic to hear exactly what you liked about whichever story, even if it's just a one-liner. I'm less motivated to update stories that are not being reviewed; even when I know hundreds of people are viewing them. That's not to say that I won't update unless I get a certain number of reviews, but it would certainly motivate me more if I were to open my mailbox and see "Review Alert" in lieu of "Fave Alert" or "Story Alert."
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