Compensation

[A/N: I was tired of the cute and cuddly crap. I still have a lot of stuff that I need to finish, mostly commissions, but this fandom is just… Well, you know. Please let me know what you think. Warning, in case the one in the summary wasn't enough: this thing is smutty nonsense. No plot or feels present in this thing, no sir.]

It was just after school, and both of Stan's parents were gone, so he, Kyle, and Kenny found refuge from the cold in the brunette's living room. Kenny was planted on the couch, drinking out of a water bottle, his coat open and hood pulled down. The other two were lying on their stomachs on the floor, playing a videogame. Kenny could already see how it was going to end: Stan would win, Kyle would whine for a while about how he had cheated, then, after some heated debating, they would leave the blond in the living room while they fucked elsewhere. He was waiting patiently for this; there was a fridge to raid and better booze in the freezer than the shit he had stolen from his dad the day before.

"That was so not fair! I got caught behind a tree!" Kyle protested, just on cue.

"Right." Stan disregarded him, probably because he knew how much the redhead hated it, that the angrier he was, the hotter the sex. Kenny was holding back giggles.

"I demand a rematch!"

"Dude, that was the rematch."

"W-well rock-paper-scissors, then!"

"Can I play too?" Both of the teens on the floor snapped their heads to look at Kenny, who was usually ignored, silent other than the occasional laugh or cough or crude comment.

"I don't see why not." Stan said, shuffling towards the orange-clad male on his knees, his fist resting on the palm of his other hand.

"Okay," Kenny said, leaning forward, "But if I win, I get to watch you two suck each other off."

They both looked absolutely mortified, and Kenny laughed darkly, taking a swig of his booze and shaking his head. Kyle had since moved from his place on the carpet, sitting cross-legged next to his raven-haired companion, mouth agape, eyes wide with fear. Stan had a very similar expression on his features, though it wasn't quite as open. Kenny was somewhat disappointed, as he was almost planted between his parted legs.

"Oh, please, you're not going to tell me you didn't think I knew, are you? You fuck like rabbits." He took a drink then set his bottle on the side table.

"And you're not as quiet as you think you are." He turned his attention to Kyle, who flushed bright pink at his words.

"Oh Stan! Harder!" He mocked, giving another dry chuckle. He reached for the booze but decided against it. There was a long, tense silence.

"Okay." Stan said, and Kyle made a choking noise.

"You can't be serious!"

"Maybe we should make the stakes a little higher." Kenny suggested evenly, a stark contrast to the panicking redhead.

"Dude!"

"Alright. I win, I get his ass, you win, you do." It was Stan's suggestion.

"Sounds fair."

"Guys, stop playing around. It's not funny."

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!" Both Kenny and Stan chanted in unison, Kenny ending with rock, Stan with paper.

"Best two out of three!" The blond protested, but the jock had already turned his attention towards the other male, who was attempting to scurry away.

Kyle was trapped, his arms pinned over his head in a gentle grasp, lips crashing to his. His expression, which was panicked and unsure, melted into compassion, the redhead kissing back. It was suddenly messy; tangled tongues, groans, mingling breath. Kenny was impressed by the time it had taken Stan to make an incoherent, pleading mess out of the redhead, taking another swig of his poison for good measure.

"Come on, Kyle, it'll be fun." Stan reassured when he pulled back from the kiss, a crooked smile on his lips.

"Fun for you." The Jewish boy snapped in reply, a hand on his groin, rubbing through his trousers. The blond had the suspicion that this was a recurring fantasy for the jock.

"Please?" The desperation in the raven-haired male's tone cinched it, and Kenny stuffed his hand into his own pants unceremoniously.

"Y-you'll – hn – you'll owe me." Kyle said, Stan sucking on his neck, removing his jacket with the pop of buttons.

The redhead tore himself out of Stan's grasp, looking somewhat bitter. He clambered over to where Kenny was sitting, letting out an unsure whine when he looked up at his friend's stern face. Stan was immediately behind him, peeling his jacket away and discarding it on the floor, sucking on the nape of his neck from behind. The moan that ripped its way out of Kyle at the action made Kenny yank the redhead's hand away from where it was supporting him on the couch. The blonde took two fingers into his mouth, rolling his tongue over them, sucking noisily. There was a shaking moan.

Kyle didn't want to like it. It was clear on his features, the pained way he was rutting against nothing but the pull of fabric, moving back on the obvious bulge in Stan's pants. He noticed Kenny pull his hand out of his own trousers, running the fingers through copper hair, pulling him so that his face was nestled into the heat there. He was suddenly groaning, barely able to process the thought of him being fucked form both sides, writhing a little more fervently.

"Stan!" He turned, rubbing his cheek purposefully against the arousal he was being held against, no longer keeping up the bashful ploy that Kenny wasn't convinced by.

The brunette made his way frantically to his coat, left crumpled in a heap under him when he was playing videogames. He stuck his hand into a pocket sown inside of it, pulling out a small bottle. Kenny snorted; amused by his handy-dandy lubricant, the way it was so easily accessible. Stan tugged Kyle's pants down without even bothering to undo the fastenings, and the redhead moaned appreciatively, mouthing at Kenny through the fabric.

The lube was opened, there was a humorous noise that did nothing for any of their resolves when some of it was applied to Stan's hand, then there was a finger inside Kyle, the other teen obviously practiced. Kenny lifted his hips when the male writhing against the intruding digit pulled at his clothing, gasping with surprise when he was immediately taken into his mouth.

Kenny was impressed. Most of the girls he messed around with were slow and teasing at first, but Kyle wasn't in the least. He went as far down as he could, one hand wrapped around the base, the other keeping him upright. When Stan moved his prodding finger just right, there was another pleased sound, this one making the blond rock in his place, rolling upwards into the wet heat.

Stan added another finger, stretching his lover purposely, before he lubed himself up and pressed forward, into Kyle, a long, drawn-out whine rocking Kenny's nerves. He didn't move, and Kenny didn't blame him, but every noise released by the male made his head loll around on his neck and his vision blur. Finally, the redhead bobbed down, then again, Kenny feeling his throat constrict around him, grunting with surprise.

"Holy shit is he good at this…" Kenny rasped out, his fingers bumping against Stan's in red hair, the brunette a bit rougher with his motions because he knew how much Kyle loved it.

"Y-yeah, he's fantastic. I-I don't know how he does it." The boy between them was pushing back against the pressure, and Stan sped up his motions.

Every forward thrust knocked Kyle further down on Kenny's arousal, and they were all incoherent messes. The jock stroked the redhead quickly, glancing up at the delicious expression on Kenny's face: open mouthed, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, the skin flushed.

"I'm com- f-fuck…" Stan stammered, speeding up and increasing the force of his motions, Kyle suddenly sucking hard and swallowing at the same time.

There was a high-pitched noise, muffled by dick, let out of the redhead's throat, and he came hard on Stan's hand, followed by Kenny, then the brunette, almost at the same time. Stan pulled out with a lewd noise, no longer supporting Kyle, the teen swallowing smoothly and collapsing into a spent heap on the floor. Kenny was still reeling, not quite sure how they had gotten in that situation. He was the first to readjust his clothing, standing and walking into the kitchen on rubber legs. There was leftover Salisbury steak in the fridge and a bottle of tequila in the freezer.