Ike stared raptly up at the television screen, his midnight black hair catching the flickering light handsomely. His hand was deep in a bowl of popcorn, forgotten, his mouth hung open mid chew. Al Pacino was bent over his dying partner, and to Ike's keen eye, it looked as if he'd shot him on purpose. But wait- Al Pacino was supposed to be the good guy! No, he definitely couldn't tell it was him in the fog… that MUST be it, HAD to be it! Robin WILLIAMS of all people was the reported bad guy. Although Ike had a hard time believing that the voice of Genie and Batty was the films antagonist, he was willing to roll with it for the sake of curiosity. The 13 year old was so ensnared by the cinematic drama that he didn't notice the soft rustling behind him.
Kyle and Stan were seated on the sofa behind the younger Broflovski, pressed tightly back to front. Both were pretending to be invested in the film, Kyle more so than Stan. They were 'babysitting', even though Ike hadn't needed supervision since he had turned five. In reality, it was usually the older pair that ended up needing sitting from Ike; meals, movies, bathing and bedtimes were usually commissioned by the youngest boy. Tonight was no different, except that it seemed the only non-Broflovski resident wasn't in a movie going mood.
Stan was multitasking, and putting much more effort into one operation than the other. His hands, which had started innocently enough around Kyle's waist, had now managed their way between his legs. At first, the red head had squirmed quietly in response, sending the other boy an icy warning in the form of a vicious glare. Ike was sitting on the floor in front of them, no more then 3 feet away. Any sort of fondling would inevitably, and embarrassingly, be overheard by him. So Stan had stopped. But, as surely as the tides following the moon, they were back, not two minutes later. Kyle had again shirked the advance, pinching the other cruelly on the underside of his knee. Stan had grimaced against the shot of pain, smiling stonily to keep back a whine of protest. Again, he'd retreated. His third attempt came after even less time then between first and second. Finally, Kyle simply sighed, caving and opening his legs just enough to allow Stan in. For the next fifteen minutes, he was lulled by Stan's gentle touches, relaxing more and more into the others body. He didn't even flinch when a tongue gingerly licked behind his ear, forgoing a small confrontation in favor of keeping quiet.
As Al Pacino tried desperately to block up the ever present midnight Alaskan sun with a pillow, Stan nudged Kyle under the edge of his jaw and gave his crotch a hard squeeze. The red heads eyes widened and he couldn't help but twitch. The blanket covering them, which had already been dangerously close to committing suicide off the edge of the couch, fell to the floor. It draped half of itself over Ike's frozen frame, and the smaller boy yelped in firstly fear and then in anger.
"Hey- what? Guys come on! This is really good! Stan, are you paying attention at all?" Ike accused shrilly, finally taking his hand out of the uneaten popcorn to throw the blanket at him. Kyle, who had immediately gone back to pretending to watch the movie, smirked and took his brothers side.
"Yeah, Jesus Christ, Stan. What the hell," he simpered, drawing his knees together primly while staring smugly at the other. Stan recoiled from the redhead once the shield of their blanket had fallen. He sat awkwardly on his feet, knees pointing in different directions. His mouth hung open as he tried to think of a way to verbally defend himself. He spluttered, caught most of the blanket in his mouth as it was thrown over his face, and coughed as the scratchy fibers tickled his tongue.
"Oh come on! It wasn't my fault!" he cried as he freed himself from the darkness of the blanket. He forced it down into his lap, hair sticking up with static. Kyle snorted into his hand, looking away as Ike gave him his own brand of fury, which involved emphatic hand gesturing.
"Dude, if you don't want to watch it with us, go upstairs! I don't want to get indignant with you- you probably won't understand most of the words I use. Might embarrass you in front of your boyfriend," Ike sniped, ending his statement with a wicked grin. He turned back to the TV with a huff, snatching up the remote to rewind back over what he'd missed during the interruption. Stan stared at the back of Ike's well combed head, speechless. On the other end of the couch, Kyle was suffering from a serious case of giggles, pointing at Stan, his eyes bright with mirth. The elder Broflovski loved it when Ike ripped Stan apart; it was like a watching a lion get mauled by a tabby cat. Stan scowled back at the red head, trying to wordlessly convey that it wasn't ALL his fault that the blanket had fallen. Apparently Kyle disagreed, holding up splayed hands in a 'wasn't me' fashion, shaking his head. Stan snorted loudly, threw the blanket at Kyle, and got up.
"Sorry Ike, I didn't mean to disrupt your experience," Stan muttered, rolling his eyes. He stalked passed the seated boy and headed into the Broflovski kitchen. Kyle watched him go, amused, before getting up to follow. He tapped his brother on the shoulder, waited for him to look, and then held out a flat palm for a low five. Ike slapped it right on, nodding curtly up at him. Kyle grinned, turning and leaving him to watch the movie alone while he collected his boyfriend.
Wandering into the kitchen, the red head wasn't surprised to find Stan bent before the open fridge. He walked as far as the closest counter and leaned heavily on it, hips cocked at an angle.
"Whatchya looking for, dude?" he asked, playing absent mindedly with a thread on the cuff of his sleeve.
"My dignity. Have you seen it?" Stan retorted flatly. He pushed several jars and a bottle of barbeque sauce aside. Kyle shook his head, again finding a grin irresistible.
"Oh come on Stan. He's 13. And it's just the three of us. And you know how he gets when you interrupt his movies; a little Christian Bale freak out worthy," the boy assuaged. He stared at Stan, the fabric of his shirt pulled tight across his back. Football season had started up again three weeks ago, and already Kyle could see the chiseled definition of his boyfriends shoulders and lats. He would never admit it one way or another, but he liked what football did for Stan's body. Hell, who wouldn't?
He heard Stan sigh, rather petulantly.
"Yeah, well, still. I get that he feels like he's gotta protect you or whatever, 'cause you're his saintly brother yadda yadda- but haven't I proved myself cool enough yet? Oh, and the fact that he's 13 makes it worse, not better," Stan explained passionately, finally straightening up from the fridge, empty handed. He caught Kyle's eye, looking for pity. The redhead quirked an eyebrow, canting his head to the side.
"Really Stan? Really?" he asked, maybe a bit too sarcastically. Stan's shoulders slumped: he clearly had been expecting Kyle to take his side.
"Hey come on! I'm nothing but super fucking nice to him! Can't you like- put in a good word with me or something? And ALSO, Mister, but I did NOT hear you complaining just a minute ago when my hands were between your legs! You could've helped me out in there," he said seriously, wagging a finger at the other. Kyle sighed, eyes sliding shut. With a gentle smile, he pushed off the counter, holding out a hand for Stan.
"Dude, relax," Kyle said calmly. He encircled the other boy in his arms and placed a soft kiss on his lips. He held himself there until Stan responded, sighing warmly through his nose and pulling Kyle closer. There was a quiet pop as they pulled apart. Kyle was happy to see that Stan was now smiling, flashing the sexy half grin which he loved so much.
"I just want him to like me, ya know? I want ALL of your family to like me…"he whispered, leaning his forehead against Kyle's. For a moment, neither said anything.
It had only been three months since the pair had made it known publically that they were dating. Both of Stan's parents had taken it fine: Randy had even been really excited, saying how lucky it was for Stan that they were both such good friends to start. Shelly had rolled her eyes and said 'she knew it all along' and 'they were never allowed to have sex in her room'. It had been really easy on the Marsh side of things. But on the Broflovski side, it had been very different.
Gerald Broflovski's reaction was utter denial. Stan had stood by Kyle's side as he'd come out to his parents, hand in hand with him. He had watched the color drain from the man's face, leaving behind two spots of freakish red high on his cheeks. An unnatural grin, one that spoke of a troubled mind, had followed. He had leered at Stan wearing that grin, shaking his head all the while. Even once he'd begun to talk, saying repetitive, reactionary things like 'No, no, not my son' and 'Not while you live in my house', the grin had seemed to persist. The points of Gerald's teeth never disappeared behind his pale lips, and Stan sometimes saw that face in his nightmares.
Kyle's mother, on the other hand, had fallen silent upon the confession of her son's sexuality. Tears hadn't welled in her eyes, her posture didn't stiffen, her lips didn't tremble with words unsaid. Rather, she seemed to relax, her round face softening into what could almost have been a sumptuous smile. Stan could tell, as his attention slid from Gerald's strained diatribe to Sheila's warm silence, that she had been expecting this. Maybe even welcoming it. Yet, the woman said nothing. And as the patriarch of the Broflovski family continued to fire his arsenal at his only biological son, she still held her tongue. Stan stared fixedly at her, waiting for her to spring to Kyle's defense, to silence Gerald and calm him the way only a couple of 20 years could. The aid never arrived, and when Stan finally looked back at Kyle, tears were streaming down the boys freckled cheeks. His hand was almost numb within the redheads grasp. Bitterness had risen in the back of Stan's throat then; he'd still not forgive Sheila for her silence.
All situations with Kyle's parents aside, it had been problems with Ike that wore Stan down. Ike had known for years about Kyle's sexuality, for the brothers had been close enough where secrets like that just couldn't be kept. But when Kyle and Stan became official, Ike felt left out. He'd expressed his fears, of abandonment specifically, to his brother. He had even gone so far to admit, through tears, that he was being childish and selfish. But the feeling just wouldn't abate, no matter how hard Ike fought it, and despite how often Kyle and Stan would include Ike in outings or get-togethers. Stan tried his hardest to accommodate him; he could understand were the younger boys frustrations and resentment were coming from. But it was proving to be weary undertaking. Granted, it had become better as time had worn on, but it was still stringently embarrassing to be cut down by a 13 year old (even if he was a genius). Stan had been so blindsided by the ease with which the situation had gone over with his own family that the difficulties he faced with Ike felt like swallowing glass.
"My family DOES like you, Stan. Ike is just… Ike. You know how he is. Remember when we used to spend Friday and Saturday nights with Kenny for like, three months straight back in freshman year? He got the same way with you guys then… This isn't different. He'll get over it" Kyle whispered reassuringly. Stan was looking down between their bodies to were they were touching, belt buckle to belt buckle.
"You know everything is going to be okay, right dude?" the red head against asked when he didn't receive an answer. In that moment, he felt good. It wasn't often that he was the calming force within their relationship. Usually he was on the wig-out end of the transceiver, with Stan phoning in across the radio waves to calm him down. It was nice to be in charge for once.
"Hmm?" Kyle hummed, giving the others waist several rapid squeezes.
"Yeah I guess," he mumbled. He started to sway just ever so slightly. Kyle snorted softly, ducking his head to try and catch the others eye.
"Come on Mr. First String Quarterback of the South Park Cows. You're telling me you're intimidated by your boyfriends 90 pound, 13 year old brother?" he said cheekily, eyebrows quirked high into his red hair.
Stan snorted incredulously, throwing all of his weight onto one leg with a show of exaggerated swagger.
"If I can handle Middle Park's center, 'Big Whale' Willy Simmons, I think I can handle Ike," he boasted, shaking his head and leveling Kyle with a skewed grin dripping with bravado.
The red head simply smirked devilishly, backing out of Stan's grip. The ravenette watched him go, his grin faltering, eye brows knitting together.
"Oh really, big man? Sure didn't seem that way to me a minute ago," Kyle teased. He took another elegant step back, this time in the direction of the pantry at the back of the kitchen. The other teen didn't follow, rooted to the floor. It was clear from the slightly hurt expression etched into features that he thought Kyle was making fun of him.
"…Why don't you-" Kyle sighed, the words soft and leading. Without looking, he opened the pantry door behind his back. Still casting Stan an invitingly seductive grin, he sidled his lean body into the gap. When just his right shoulder, neck and face remained visible, he finished his thought.
"-Come over here and prove it," he whispered. He rested his head against the door frame, finger tapping against the wood.
At first, Stan didn't know how to react. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips molded back together a moment later in silence. His body was listing to one side, caught between a decision to advance or hold. He wasn't sure if Kyle was being serious. If he really meant what Stan HOPED, then it would be a first. The red head was absolutely totalitarian when it came to when and where the pair canoodled. Furthermore, Ike was still awake and right in the next room. He felt like it would be foolish to rush into this situation, cock making his decisions and raising a bright banner of false hope.
With a heavy swallow, he looked back over his shoulder, towards the smooth murmur of the TV.
"But Ike…" he said softly, thumbing towards the living room. He found Kyle's eyes again and jumped a bit at their intensity. They caught the light of the nearby microwave clock, and in the dark kitchen, it was striking. He sighed loudly, rolling his eyes, his head swiveling with them.
"Oh for Christ's sake- come over here so I can blow you in the closet! I want you to feel better, and I'll probably never ask you again so come here," he demanded bluntly, thrusting his pointer finger at the floor the way one might when commanding a dog. Stan stared, wide eyed for a moment. A grin began to crack over his face.
"Well, don't mind if I do," he growled lowly, quickly covering the distance to the pantry in three big strides.
"Just like you to keep a guy waiting," Kyle gasped as the ravenette grabbed him with one hand, shutting the door with the other.
"Suck my dick, you know you'd wait for me forever," Stan scoffed, not realizing his bald pun as he pushed their mouths together. Kyle laughed heartily into the kiss, threading his hands into Stan's thick hair.
"As you wish," he panted eagerly when they finally unwound their tongues.
Fifteen minutes later, the pair returned to the living room, hand in hand. They were both beaming, and making a very poor effort to hide it. Ike paused the film as the entered the room, having been faithfully watching it alone. He turned to them, suspicion bright in his sharp eyes. He looked Kyle over first, then Stan. The ravenette grinned back at him, the gesture easily forthcoming. He felt worlds better, go figure, and the thought of facing down the 13 year old seemed much more manageable then half an hour ago.
"Hey broseph," he said casually. Kyle made a minute noise of incredulity and gave Stan's hand a squeeze before leaving him to sit back down. Ike and Stan however were still locked in visual combat, the older boy clearly feeling as if he now had the upper hand.
"Where have you two been? You missed half the frickin' movie," Ike questioned. His intense gaze flicked to his brother for half a heart beat.
"Just makin' a snack in the kitchen… No biggy. How's the movie?" Stan returned casually, leaning on one foot like an old Western movie gunslinger.
"Hmm. A snack. For almost half an hour?… Well, it IS you two," Ike drawled, looking back to the frozen picture on the TV. Stan felt his hackles rising, but he forced himself to remember Kyle's warm mouth around his cock not long ago. The tightness in his chest faded quickly. He took a breath, centered himself quickly, and tried again.
"Yeah well- " the older boy began confidently.
"Don't explain, I understand. Just sit so we can watch this together. It's boring when I watch alone. And like, don't throw blankets on me this time," Ike sighed, holding up a palm to show his disinterest. Stan felt like he had shrunk a few inches, his ego again feeling rusted. As he walked around the boy seated on the floor however, Ike caught his eye and winked conspiratorially. Stan, surprised, could do no more then smile back before his momentum pulled him down beside Kyle on the couch. Ike waited in silence as the pair got situated, once more throwing the blanket over themselves like a shield.
"All right Captain, we're set," Stan said, giving the younger boy a thumbs up despite the fact that he couldn't see it.
"Word. Oh, and Kyle?" Ike chirped as he picked up the remote to start the film.
"Yeah?" his brother responded, cuddling once more inside the circle of Stan's arms. Stan smiled warmly back at him, kissing the tip of his nose.
"Your fly is down," Ike said plainly. Without waiting for a response, he pushed 'play', and the room was filled with the sound of the movie.
Stan, his pursed lips still pressed to the angle of Kyle's nose, couldn't stop the swell of laughter that began building in him. His shoulders were shaking before noise even started to emerge. He sat back, stifling the laughter with the knuckles of his hand. Kyle remained motionless, face drawn into a mask of embarrassment, lips folded in and brows tightly knotted. Finally, Stan could hold it in no longer, and a long bark of laughter punctuated the demur scene on the TV.
"Oh Kyle!" he laughed, feeling genuine sympathy mixed with a shot of raw amusement as his boyfriends horror.
"Godddamnit," the red head seethed quietly, shifting around quickly to fix his jeans. His face had gone a comely shade of scarlet, making Stan want to lean in and kiss him hard. Once finished, Kyle threw the blanket over himself, leaving his boyfriend outside. Stan kept right on chuckling, shaking his head. Kyle threw him a dirty scowl.
"Boom," Ike piped in suddenly, holding up a hand behind his head. Stan recognized it at once as an invitation for a high five. The resounding slap made Kyle twitch.
Authors Notes: Hey everyone, hoped you liked it. Just to say- The movie that Ike is watching in the beginning is 'Insomnia'. Please see more about it here: .com/title/tt0278504/ !