A/N: I've been slowly putting this together over the last few months of my hiatus and I just wanted it done and out pft.
Enjoy~
Sneakers squeaking over the waxed tile filled the air octaves above the monotonous murmurs flooding through the corridor. The daily trudging through government-regulated required education was waning down on the tired faces scattered throughout. Thursday, they kept reminding themselves. It was Thursday, which meant only one more day until the weekend where they could stay up until three discussing in great detail just how much they hated this routine. They could complain en masse before Sunday crept along and they were awoken at eight in the morning (still counted as sleeping in, parents claimed) to be dragged into mass before being herded back home to catch up on twelve hours worth of the next week's assignments.
Same shit, different week.
Or, at least, that was the routine for most of the poor, downtrodden teens wandering about aimlessly. Not for one particularly anxious redhead, leaning against his locker and pretending to flip through his latest assigned Steinbeck novel. No, his grumbly short-lived weekend day was Saturday, where he'd be dragged to temple accompanied by his mother's shrill, chipper morning-person voice and his younger brother passing out during the service and drooling on his arm. Then he could trudge back home, down five or six cups of coffee and begin his workday. Free for the rest of the weekend, he could slumber lazily until eleven on Sunday, awakening to the smell of french toast or eggs and stay in pajamas until the possibility of social means dictated otherwise.
It was routine, plain and simple, almost as routine as Thursdays at 2:05.
Being a senior, and a senior with high-level classes at that, had its advantages; A certain amount of trust from teachers and facility, allowed to utilize the library at nearly any given opportunity. A handful of times he and fellow 'go-getters' were allowed to step into the teachers' lounge or the deans' meeting rooms, grab a cup of their cheap potluck coffee and find themselves involved with waxing philosophical discussions, making inputs on lecture plan structures, or even joining in on the gossip surrounding their classmates.
Another lovely advantage handed to him was an allowance of block period early dismissals; getting to leave a class earlier than the rest every other day as they were trapped until 3:45. Taking the time that should be allocated with study hall, crammed into the cafeteria with about two hundred others of each four grades, and using them to head home and use his time to study in his own comforts. After all, higher classes meant higher stress and a need for much more space than the 'average student'.
Kyle knew that was bullshit, that every student was entitled to such a lax stance on their work ethic, but he certainly wasn't going to argue with such privileged results. After all, it freed him up to hit the bookstore, grab himself an overpriced cafe latte and swing by the deli for a sandwich before heading back home to his overbearing mother crowding him into his room to make damn sure he stayed at the height of his schooling. The year before as a junior had been pure hell trying to study in the cafeteria, surrounded by people already free of their work playing Candy Crush and discussing the latest scandals by their classmates. Trying desperately to keep himself on top of memorizing AP Calculus AB equations and jargon while simultaneously wondering just what it was that this Janet had been thinking wearing that kind of top on her date had been a hair-ripping scenario to say the least. So as soon as he'd entered his last year and had been presented his opportunity, he'd swiped it before anyone else could so much as blink.
Stan had whined, calling him lucky for escaping despite his years of football having gotten him out of countless classes and had placed him on the enigmatic curve that all that athletes somehow seemed to procure while the rest of their peers floundered. Cartman had called it his 'Jew witchcraft', only able to snag himself the allowance by stealthily tricking teachers into thinking he was smart. Kyle had found himself taking the long way to his car on his early-leave days to pass the window by Cartman's Integrated Chemistry and Physics course to flip him off and dance his way towards the parking lot in the sunshine. He'd just watch and cackle while the brunette scowled and would more often than not snap above the teacher's lecture and get himself sent to student services for yet another detention.
And Kenny? Kenny had grabbed his own brand-spanking new schedule, looking between Kyle's and his own and breaking into that wicked grin that settled so nicely on his face, robin's egg eyes sparkling with mischief that only Kyle could read so plain and clear. Because a wonderful happenstance had occurred: Kenny's study hall lined right up with Kyle's leave. Toss in an instructor who couldn't care less about tardies or absences and it equaled one nice block of solitude that the two could spend however they wanted.
Block scheduling allowed for another kind of agenda. Mondays were Kyle's moodiest of days, so they would meet outside by the oak tree on the outskirts of the woods where it was filled with light breaking through leaves and the smell of roasted soil. The very spot where well over a year beforehand, Kenny had fallen from a branch trying to impress the redhead with his 'mad climbin' skills' and landed on top of him. After two minutes of staring at each other in a tense silence, Kyle had swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned up to kiss him for the first time, making way for a momentary shock followed by a tongue trying to dig into his throat. They'd declared that tree theirs, where eight months of awkward avoidance and cheesy oblivious flirting had cultivated into a 'risky' move on Kyle's part that had the rest of their class sighing in relief that the ridiculous games were finally at an end. The scratch marks Kyle's back had from that tree were attuned to the routine themselves, always healed just enough to be lightly broken back open when the next Monday off rolled itself around.
Tuesdays were spent crowded in the back of Kenny's pick-up, Kyle's legs painfully, but gloriously spread, one dangling over the drivers seat as Kenny awkwardly maneuvered his knees on the small backseat and the carpeted floor, leaning over him and watching Kyle's hand clinging to the assistance bar above his head and raking through his blonde hair at the same time. They were a cramped, disheveled mess, but it certainly made for a good reason for Kenny to keep his truck in near-pristine condition, only allowing the mess of Kyle to mar the upholstery.
Wednesdays had them behind the bleachers in the baseball field, lazily and slowly passing time until classes ended and Kenny had to redress himself to head right on over to the dugout to wait until practice began. Kyle would more often than not head up to sit at the bleachers with his books, half-pretending to give a shit about the material in front of him when the much more enthralling topic of Kenny McCormick's flexing arms stepping up to bat was in his line of sight. After-practice celebrations or sympathies were always in order, Kyle carefully calculating how many runs the blonde had scored or how many outs he'd procured. Either a vigorous proud deep-throating or a nice, slow 'you're still the best to me' licking was what it'd turned into, managing to convince his mother that he'd joined the spelling bowl to account for his late mid-week return home.
Fridays were the days spent on the roof, wandering up through the always-unlocked hatch tucked in the corner of the technology sect of the second floor. That was probably Kyle's favorite of locations, finding himself staring at Kenny illuminated by nothing but sky hovering above him with that smirk, feeling the wind unabatedly whisking against them, undeterred by anything but themselves. Then Kenny would lie down beside him after and they'd stare up at the clouds curling together and talking about their weekend plans, surrounded by nothing but afterglow warmth and forever-lost hacky sacks.
But Thursdays? Thursdays were always a treat. They'd declared Thursdays to be their extemporaneous days after their old routine of messing around in the emptied room 148 had been dismantled by the new pottery class. Kyle loved seeing just where it was Kenny would come up with to take him to week by week. Sometimes he could sneak them into the kitchen of the cafeteria while the lunchladies met to discuss the next week's menu. He'd once or twice gotten them into the teacher's lounge used by the foreign language instructors as they all had a class during that last period. A few especially stressful days for the redhead he'd led him by hand out to the parking lot, tossing him atop the hood of Cartman's Mustang and making every frustrated bone in his body melt into satisfied bliss, even going so far as to record Cartman coming out of school and unwittingly using the handle that had his and Kyle's spunk wiped underneath as the coup de grâce. He'd send it to Kyle who had made it home by that point with a winking emoji and a promise that next time they'd make a mess of some other part of the vehicle, as well as an ending 'hope u feel better, babe' that never failed to make Kyle smile.
Kyle let out a long breath through his teeth, shifting his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet, lightly rocking back and forth against his locker as the masses continued to meander around him. His thumb lightly brushed over the paperback sprawled open in front of him, green eyes darting down to land on a line jumbled within the text. '"There ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue. There's just stuff people do."' Full lips crept into a grin, the line singing with the voice of Kenny, right down to the hick drawl that so intrigued him. Colorado certainly wasn't the place for such an accent, but being raised by the textbook definition of redneck more than accounted for his boyfriend occasionally slipping down that vocal slope. Not that Kyle minded in the slightest.
After all, what were rednecks considered? They were dirty. Unorthodox. They were the pinnacle of distaste and idiocy. But Kyle had found the flower spawning from the manmade landfill hill. Though tainted by the garbage beneath him, still carrying the weight from where his roots spawned, Kenny was above and beyond what society had pinned his family as. He was merely off the beaten path as Kyle had desperately explained to his parents as they sat in shock at his announcement of their newfound relationship. Sheila had been thrown asunder, her "perfect prim and straight-laced" bubbeleh had fallen for Irish-Catholic white trash. His dad had tentatively pointed out Kenny's low ambitions in life before just convincing himself and his wife that Kyle was 'going through a phase'. A phase now in its second-year running. And Ike? Ike had just rolled his eyes with an exasperated "Finally," and asked if they could order pizza for dinner since their mother was still in pseudo-shock.
Kenny was the rare, vintage artifact found in the dumpster, carelessly tossed by one who didn't know of its value. Kyle was the scavenger, diving for such treasure and happening upon the one to take home and dust off, proudly proclaim it as his own and show off with the boastful nature that he was so attuned with. Others would scrunch their noses at learning the origins, Kyle hearing time and again, "Wait. Kenny McCormick?" Because who would expect any of the well-off Broflovskis to even so much as associate with the abusive household from the wrong side of the tracks, much less one of them letting themselves be fucked senseless by and helplessly enamored with the youngest son.
Kyle bit his lip, eyes fluttering dreamily towards his book. The words began to blur into fuzzy lines of meaninglessness, chest expanding with a contented breath. He could feel others staring at him as they walked by, knowing well enough he and Kenny were a focal point of gossip around South Park High. They were 'that nerdy Jewish kid' and 'that pervert hick' that always managed to come into school every morning with new marks on their necks, the two that passed each other between second and third period on alternating days and stole lingering, sloppy kisses as they continued walking their separate ways. They were the two that, in the cafeteria during lunch, would more often than not spend the entirety of the half hour murmuring sweet nothings and dirty promises to one another, mindlessly feeding one another nibbles of Pop-Tarts and sandwiches and making their friends surrounding them sick to their stomachs. People had plotted their paths to their classes to avoid them, had spent time and data on their phones messaging each other 'Ugh, I can see them from German class they're making out by the water fountain'.
Before Kenny had wandered into his life as his boyfriend, the idea of being the center of rumors and hearsay would have mortified him. But now? Now it was a sense of pride. Because as proud as he was to show off Kenny, the blonde was even more proud to show off just who he'd managed to rope in. More often than not introducing Kyle to new students with the line, "Oh this? This is Kyle. My boyfriend. He's also the smartest guy in the school, bar none. Should be teachin' the teachers. Did I mention he's my boyfriend because you better keep your eyes up there at his face, Buddy because that ass is mine." Kyle would scowl and swat at him and awkwardly try to make conversation with the newcomer whilst simultaneously melting at the praise and the claim as Kenny wrapped his arm around his waist. New kids and those just blissfully unaware were always warned: You stay away from either of them with any kind of intent, because the other will kick your ass otherwise. Perhaps to some it would be viewed as possessive. Maybe even unhealthy. But to the two of them, it was perfection.
Kyle nearly flinched as that familiar arm wrapped around his waist in the midst of his wanderings, warm, wet lips pressed against the nape of his neck. He shuddered. "Hey, you," Kenny purred hotly into his ear.
The redhead smiled, relaxing and letting his book fold in on itself, leaning against the sweet treatment. "Hey yourself," he responded cooly. "How was geometry?"
Kenny pouted, "Shitty per the usual. Why would I care about any shape but the one of your ass?" he teased.
"Because my ass won't get you into college," he reminded him, letting out a breath of a moan at those lips tracing around his skin, Kenny sliding in behind him against the locker and pulling him firmly against his chest.
The blonde shrugged, "Maybe I wanna major in the art of doin' the Jew."
Kyle snorted, shaking his head. "You know, some people might find that kind of thing offensive."
"Well, we both know that you ain't one of 'em," he grinned, craning his head around to bite down lightly on the top of Kyle's ear. "'Cuz God knows you ain't got no qualms with me dedicatin' all my time t' fuckin' ya."
"Never denied that," he smirked, turning his head enough to lock stares with bright blue eyes glittering with promise. A small, smoldering tiredness lingered within, a bit of a difference from his usual mischief, and Kyle cocked his head. "You all right?"
He shrugged again, "Long day."
"You always have a long day," he reminded him, stealing a quick kiss against those tenderized lips. "What happened?"
"Eh, some bitch," he sighed, moving a hand up to rest in Kyle's soft curls, playing a tendril between calloused fingers. "Called me out in geo just because I dunno jack shit 'bout fuckin' triangles."
Kyle raised his brow, shifting in his hold and closing his book altogether, tucking it under his arm. "Why'd she call you out?"
"Partnered for some stupid practice sheet," he said tiredly. "Off by one fuckin' number and she just lost her shit at me."
Kyle narrowed his eyes, "What a cunt. Who was it?"
Kenny smirked, lightly tugging on his hair. "Ain't gonna tell ya that one. Last person t' call me stupid ended up 'fallin'' down the bleachers."
Kyle crossed his arms, raising one shoulder dismissively. "Millie has always been a klutz," he responded casually. "Not my fault she wears hooker boots and doesn't have suitable coordination for 'em."
He chuckled, planting another kiss on the corner of his mouth. "It ain't a big deal," he promised. "Just an annoyin' way to end the day, ya know?"
"Hm," Kyle mused, gripping his arm and squeezing lightly. "Day isn't over yet. I have a better way for us to end it," he grinned slyly. "Get your mind off that fucking whore."
Kenny grinned, "I do love how you get so defensive over me," he teased.
"And I love when you stop wasting our precious time," he said dryly. "I only have about twenty minutes before Ma gets paranoid and starts calling me, so let's make with the gettin' to it, huh?"
"So impatient," he murmured, pecking his temple. "I got us a place, c'mon," he urged, reaching down and linking their fingers together, tugging him to follow through the dispersing crowd as their peers headed to their classes. Sets of eyes followed them for small stretches, ending in rolls as they knew just what the two of them were heading off to do. They were never exactly subtle about it, Kyle's eyes lighting up and his tone dropping about three octaves while Kenny lost all hope of composure and was more than willing to bulldoze people down if they didn't step out of their way. There was no doubt that they liked to pretend that what they were doing was secretive, that they were outsmarting everyone with their hookups, but they were nothing more than ignorant by means of their lusty, narrow-sighted haze.
Kyle awkwardly fumbled to unhook his bag and shove his book into place, allowing Kenny to be his eyes as he struggled with the fabric. A quick two squeezes of his fingers reassured him that the blonde knew to lead him along and he grinned shyly to himself. He could vividly remember freshman year, when Stan and Wendy were the golden couple of their school. He remembered how he and Kenny had theatrically gagged as Stan had been stuck in a dopamine-high, staring at their Mario Kart battle with a stupid, hazy grin as he described their 'sync'. How he knew what Wendy was feeling just by how she played with her hair, how a certain way she looked at him told him everything he needed to know.
"That's the gayest shit I've ever fucking heard," Kyle had groaned, successfully launching a red shell straight into Stan's bumper.
"Seriously," Ken had concurred, giving Stan a scoff. "Only thing you need to know 'bout a chick is when she's willin' t' git naked for ya," he said blandly, missing the subtle hurt on Kyle's face and the knowing sympathetic glance that Stan shot him. "That frou-frou shit is just mind control, Man. She's lurin' ya towards marriage, letting you think you know what she's thinkin'. Then soon as that ring goes on it's gonna end, Stanny-boy. Back t' square one."
Kyle huffed out a small laugh, looking back up at Kenny leading him through the halls and smirking. Stan hadn't been nearly as wrong as the two of them had teased him for. Gestures and looks were all the two of them needed. Kenny had joked one day while they were out to lunch that he could go straight back into that heavy parka hood of their youth and crawl back in his shell and Kyle would still be able to know just what was on his mind. The boy was inclined to agree, at this point in their relationship, he could decipher something as simple as Kenny's eyebrow twitching far easier than anything Steinbeck ever published. The roles had been reversed, Stan telling them that they were too in-tune, that the both of them were hypocritical beyond belief.
Hypocritical or not, it was plenty enough for the two of them. Perfectly comfortable in silence as they laid in bed together, fingers lightly dancing over naked skin as the heat of the room began to simmer down around them. Kyle had a fondness for those moments he'd never admit, knowing well enough that Kenny felt the same. Nothing felt quite as perfect, nothing so natural as nothing but their breathing and a gentle patter of rain falling onto leaves outside their own world; Where the fire and the breathlessness came to a head and nothing seemed quite as clear as the fine hairs on one another's skin and the supple, swollen lips planting against one another.
"Ya lost back there?" Kenny's teasing voice broke the surface, Kyle looking up to see a knowledgeable, smug smirk on his face. "I know that I'm irresistible, Ky, but wait until I getcha there."
He let out a distasteful scoff, followed with an overly-dramatic eye roll. "Please. Believe it or not, I'm not here for the purpose of feeding your ego."
"And yet ya still do it so well," he drawled, wiggling his brows and squeezing his hand again. "C'mon. Almost there."
Kyle shook his head, finally taking notice of his surroundings and raising his eyebrow in confusion. "Where the fuck are we?" he asked, noting the unfamiliar curvature of the hall and the rooms lacking windows surrounding them.
"Where us dumb kids go," Kenny shrugged. "Well, I'm there for English at least," he pointed to the closed off room 38. "This ain't the town you'd find yourself in, Babe."
Kyle pouted, "You're not dumb."
Kenny snorted, "Fine. I ain't dumb, whatever. But if yer strugglin', they throw ya in these here parts," he waved aimlessly with his free hand. "No windows so ya can't get distracted."
"Or see if there's someone out here with a fucking gun or something," he added, shaking his head.
He shrugged again, "We're not the ones the school cares 'bout. We don't make the money with the fuckin' standardized tests. You're the precious cargo."
Kyle let out an elongated sigh, "Mention me and the word precious in the same context again and I'll rip out your hair."
"Mm, wait until I'm givin' ya a real reason to pull my hair," he winked. Kyle's shoulders slumped and he stared at the blonde wryly. Walked right into that one. Kyle smacked his lips a bit, eyes pulled up by a flickering florescent hovering above them, filling his ears with buzzes alongside his and Kenny's tennis shoes making their way down the thinly carpeted floor. They both jerked a bit at the tone of the bell and Kenny laughed. "Oops. Late for study hall again whatever will I do?"
Kyle smirked, "I'm thinkin'... me."
"An excellent option," he grinned. "And I have the perfect suite."
"Gonna woo me?" he teased.
"We passed wooing ages ago," he drawled. "All I gotta do is say 'clothes' and you're fuckin' naked on my lap."
He scoffed, "Fine. I'll stop until you write me an essay on why we should fuck then."
Kenny stopped in his tracks, Kyle bashing into his arm and backing up to look up at his boyfriend smartly. Kenny twisted his lips in distaste, "That ain't funny."
"I think it is and that's all that's needed," he said primly.
Kenny snorted and rolled his eyes, continuing to lead him towards the back halls rounding past the algebra I class. "Yeah, because that's beneficial for you, ain't it? You'd break before me."
"You wanna fuckin' test that theory, Buddy?" he challenged.
A casual shrug, "No. Not really. That's a waste of good time, Man. Only got a few more decades of plowin' ya into the wall, I don't wanna miss any opportunities."
Kyle smiled, forcing himself to keep it somewhat subdued. "Think you're gonna have me the next few decades, huh?"
Kenny stiffened a bit before relaxing again, "Got a problem with that line of thinkin'?"
The redhead squeezed his fingers, "Only if you can't gimme a reason to stick with you."
"Guess I'll have to prove my worth then," he replied smoothly, yanking Kyle up beside him and bringing them both to a stop at a darkened wooden door. "And here's where I can," he purred, gesturing to the barrier.
Kyle blinked, "And this is?"
"Open and see, my dear," he urged.
He glanced at the shit-eating grin on Kenny's face before glancing back and snagging the door handle, shoving it open to a cement floor and metal shelves lined with cleaning supplies illuminated in the hall light. His nose scrunched at the faint hint of ammonia and sawdust emanating from the disarrayed stash. "The fucking janitor's closet?" he hissed. "Damn, Kenny, I'm not picky but you can do better than this."
"You ain't usin' yer imagination," he drawled, placing a firm hand flat on Kyle's back before shoving him into the room. Kyle stumbled, catching himself with his fingers wrapped around a shelf and looking as Kenny stepped inside with him, switching on the single bulb hanging above their heads. Kyle's face contorted as Kenny closed the door, trapping the musty smells around them. He backed up a bit, making more room for Kenny in the claustrophobic space, just barely big enough to fit the both of them somewhat comfortably. "It ain't the Ritz or some shit, but the janitors don't come 'round this closet 'cept in the morning," he shrugged.
Green eyes rolled, "Oh goody. So now we get to get high off of turpentine?"
"I mean if you wanna, fine, but I'd rather fuck ya," he said point-blank.
Kyle let out an irritated breath, "We don't have room to fuck. There's more space in your truck, Asshole."
"Once again, imagination," he raised his brows, reaching past Kyle and wriggling a shelf. "These fuckers are reinforced and bolted down, they can take some rockin'," he purred, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and letting it land on the cement with a heavy thud. Kyle glanced towards the bag before looking back at him.
"I'm just saying, the one we used to make out in is bigger."
"And doesn't give us enough time for fun," he continued. "'sides, they were onto us with that one." He reached over and snagged the strap of Kyle's bag, bringing it over his head and letting it join his own on the ground, lessoning the already-limited space around them. Kyle sighed, eyes widening as Kenny pressed forward, smacking him against the shelves and grasping his chin. Blue eyes softened and thin lips turned into a practiced pout. "Someone hurt my feelings in class," he whined.
"Oh my god," he rolled his eyes again. He stiffened before his body prickled pleasantly as warm lips found his own, pecking against them softly.
"This is the only place I could find," he continued pleadingly, planting soft brushes around reddening cheekbones and the folded skin on his displeased nose. "And you don't have much time before your mom calls," he reminded him.
Kyle sighed, eyes flickering around the various colors of chemicals surrounding them, their smell overpowered by the naturally musky scent of Kenny crowding his senses. A quiet, laggard breath flew through his nose and he nodded in silence, feeling his boyfriend grinning that victorious grin of his. "Next time you owe me somewhere nice," Kyle muttered, ducking his head down and stealing his lips, shifting back against the shelves as Kenny leaned back up and grinned cheekily.
"When I'm done with you, you'll forget anywhere exists but this closet," he purred, reaching down and snagging Kyle's pants, tearing the button apart and making his hand right at home pressing against the button of his boxers and firmly rubbing, pressing the beginning erection up firmly against Kyle's belly.
Kyle shuddered, running his hand up Kenny's arm and through his hair. "If you're bankin' on that, you should make this worth my while," he hinted.
Ken snorted, "So impatient," he echoed. He let Kyle tug his hair impatiently a few more times, waiting for that telltale spark of the edge of composure strike through bright green before letting out a dramatic sigh and a wink. He slowly sank down to his knees, dragging Kyle's pants and boxers down his legs as he went. He grabbed around Kyle's right knee, lifting it towards himself and sliding his foot through the leg as Kyle cocked his brow.
"Since when do I have to get fully fuckin' naked for this?"
"Ya don't," he shrugged, redirecting his attention to the twitching skin in front of him and grinning satisfactorily as he let a slim hand wrap around the base. Kyle let out a breath of a moan as Kenny straightened himself up, darting a tongue over the beginning trail of fluid. "But it's hard t' spread yer legs for me with them all the way on," he said innocently.
Kyle rolled his eyes, mouth opened to protest before a hot, wet chasm shoved itself over his cock and nothing more than a squeak could come through his vocal chords. His right hand automatically flew down to entangle in golden hair, rendered breathless as a practiced tongue, slick in every sense of the word, played around his skin. He bit his lip, looking down and finding himself once again enraptured with the sparkling, amused blue eyes staring back at him. Kyle's free hand wrapped tightly around the edge of the shelf resting against the small of his back, fingers clenching onto the reinforced steel for dear life as his legs lightly wobbled and the scale of the room surrounding them seemed to bubble. Everything on Earth seemed to be stretching away from the two of them, nothing in their world but Kyle's beginning quiet moans and the muffled lapping of Kenny's tongue.
"Fuck," he breathed out heavily, fingers clenching in Kenny's hair, unsure of whether they wanted to pet through approvingly or rip up and demand more. Kyle loved every moment of this situation, where the ever-lingering worries of upcoming exams and papers could melt away, completely snuffed out by Kenny's everlasting attention. He bit his lip, hips arching as Kenny's cheeks slowly hollowed around him, the pressure squeezing every nerve with divine precision.
Kenny slowly slid himself up and down the hardened flesh, eyes nearly fluttering at the warm, welcoming taste overtaking his being. His hands drifted up on a course of their own along Kyle's thighs, dragging the back of his nails along the pale, tremoring skin and leaving pale white lines in their wake. He rounded roughly around Kyle's hips and moved his hands back, grasping his ass with firm fingers. Kyle gasped as Kenny dug his nails in deep, prying the globes apart and pressing him forward deeper into his mouth. His fingers scratched frantically in Kenny's mussed hair, staring hazily at Kenny swallowing his cock like it was his only chance of sustenance.
"Ken," he moaned, leaning his head back, temporarily blinded as his focused eyes swept across the bright bulb above their heads. Kenny pulled his skin further apart with the utterance, kneading the plump muscle and grinning to himself at the sensation. His brows furrowed slightly as his own cock smacked relentlessly against his zipper, shifting on his legs to try to alleviate it from its confined positioning. He moaned quietly as Kyle's fingers clenched tighter in his hair, the vibrations making the redhead's knees turn to jelly.
He relinquished one of Kyle's cheeks, giving it a light slap and blindly fumbling to the side towards their bags as his boyfriend remained in an ignorant bliss. 'At least you know how to multitask where it counts', Kyle had jokingly told him long before. He certainly couldn't argue the statement as he snagged his backpack and drug it over beside himself, fingerpads tracing to find the side pocket and hurriedly unzip it. Kenny glanced back up, seeing Kyle still looking towards the ceiling, lost in the lusty mist that he had placed him within.
Slowly, Kenny slid off of his cock, getting a disappointed whine from the redhead who looked down at him desperately, expression frazzled. Kenny smirked, swiping a small bottle of lube and a condom from the pocket and slowly working up onto his feet, ignoring the pounding of his knees from being situated upon the concrete. He hovered over the redhead, Kyle keeping locked with his eyes as he leaned down to kiss him brashly. "Let's get to the gettin', huh?" he purred, kissing him again and grabbing his hand from his hair and pressing it to the shelf. He snagged his left hand from its hold and forced it against his jeans, raising his brows expectantly.
Kyle nodded eagerly, stealing another kiss and their tongues fluidly slipping along one another as he quickly undid Kenny's jeans, shoving his clothing down his legs and automatically grasping at the hot and heavy skin breathlessly. He fumbled around with his free hand, landing on the condom wrapper and swiping it from his grasp, hurrying to tear open the foil packet and wrestle to get the latex out with one hand.
Kenny grunted, reaching around Kyle's back to pour lube onto his fingers, feeling a good deal slipping off and missing entirely, landing in drops atop the steel shelves and splattering onto bottles of WD-40.
The redhead took a shuddery breath, caged in tightly from Kenny's positioning and loving every lost inch of personal space. He finally managed to worm the gummy latex from its confinement, dropping the packet onto the ground and maneuvering to slip the condom to the head of Kenny's cock. He yelped, losing his bearings as a slicked finger prodded up inside of him. He pulled back from Kenny's lips, panting and gulping. "A little warning next time?" he snapped, tone rasped.
Kenny smirked, wriggling his finger tauntingly and Kyle moaned, arching against him. "You love it when I surprise you," he parried off easily, moving to press the lube against the back of his occupied hand. "Why don't you return the favor?"
"You want my finger up your ass?" he asked dryly, yelping as Kenny shoved in deeper, moving around and lightly edging in a second counterpart.
"No," he said curtly. "But I want that hand of yours to make me pleasantly surprised."
"Fist you. Got it."
"Kyle," he bit, shoving in his second finger to the knuckle and watching Kyle's head fly back, mouth agape as he let out a long-winded moan, entire body tremoring as the sensation flooded him. "Gonna behave?" he raised his brow, shaking his hand and hiking him closer.
"When... when do I ever?" he panted, tilting his head to stare the blonde straight on.
Kenny smirked, "Good point. I love your feisty little ass. And your tight little ass, too," he teased, spreading his fingers pointedly. Kyle rolled his eyes, little sounds creeping from his nasopharynx against Kenny's skin. The redhead let out a shaking breath, twisting his hand to grab the lube from Kenny and let him go back to playing with his skin and keeping him caged in. His shoulders raised as he struggled to move in the confines and keep himself steady as fingers steadily played around inside him. He sighed irritably, breath hitching as Kenny tauntingly pressed against his prostate. A promise: fulfill his end of Kenny's plan and his end got more than its fill.
He managed to move the condom back to the head of Kenny's cock, licking his lips in concentration and looking up at those blue eyes watching him eagerly. Genially, he rolled the latex down the length of his dick, leaning up and nipping at Ken's chin teasingly, hearing a frustrated groan from Kenny's throat and another rough press of his fingers, launching him closer against him.
He smirked, eyes bleary and entire constitution thrown asunder by his boyfriend's playing digits. "Don't like it when I tease back?" he asked breathily, kissing his throat lightly.
"Thought you were in a hurry," he strangled out, nipping the top of his ear.
"I-I just- ohh," he shut his eyes and moaned loudly as Kenny worked to get his third finger in, hindered in the slightest by the awkward stretch and contortion of his long arms. "Oh fuck," he breathed, nearly helpless in Kenny's trap.
"Faster you are, faster I can get t' you," he urged, biting his ear again as he slowly slid all three fingers into the tight hole. He knew Kyle was slipping closer to being nearly unable to communicate, and that just wasted precious time. Kyle nodded briskly, leaning against Kenny's shoulder and biting roughly to keep his sounds down, a habit he'd had to develop in these daily rendezvous. He tilted the bottle over his left hand, spilling a mess into his palm and gripping firmly along Kenny's cock. The blonde moaned, redirecting his face into Kyle's neck and kissing him fervently as he steadily stroked and tugged, his cock singing the praises of finally getting the touch that Kyle took his sweet goddamn time getting around to.
He slapped Kyle's ass firmly, the redhead's teeth clenching tighter into his shoulder through his sweatshirt, just barely muffling his lewd moans. Kyle panted, free hand sliding up and hooking around Kenny's neck, nails digging into the skin over his spine and keeping him where his tongue was dancing over his skin. "You ready?" Kenny murmured, spreading his fingers wider.
Kyle winced, "Little... little more," he managed to work out, groaning as Kenny nodded, continuing to work his insides in that skillful manner that he'd perfected. Kyle's hand gripped firmer, thumb teasing over the covered head of Kenny's dick and feeling his shaking breath leaking over his clavicle.
"Still regret the locale?" he teased breathlessly.
Kyle rolled his eyes, arching with a loud gasp as Kenny hit against his prostate. "Don't fucking question me right now," he hissed, giving a warning tug on his dick.
"So mean to me," he pouted, kissing his neck again.
"Me bein' mean would be me walkin' out of here right now."
"You wouldn't," he bit down on his neck.
"Guess you better stop me if you don't want to have blue balls the rest of study hall," he breathed, whining as Kenny ripped his fingers out of him all at once, shoving him further against the shelving unit. He scrambled to clean his hand off on his shirt and plant his palms on the shelf by his back as Kenny reached down and snagged the back of his thighs, hiking him up around his hips. Kyle winced, reaching up with one hand to snag the shelf above him, watching Kenny grinning.
"Hold yourself for just a few seconds," he instructed, waiting for a confirmatory nod and releasing one of Kyle thighs, grabbing his cock and leading it towards his loosened hole. Kyle bit his lip, trying to keep his free leg up and spread, leaning his head back and groaning as Kenny slowly pressed the head inside of him and re-situated his hold on his leg. With steady precision he pressed down into the hot chasm, Kyle's resounding moan bouncing off of transducer steel, purring back into his hands. Kenny grabbed greedily under Kyle's ass, nails digging into the fleshy globe and hiking him higher, the redhead compliantly wrapping his legs around his waist.
"Ken, go," Kyle bit, Kenny's hold only helping so much. He couldn't stay like this for the time Kenny liked to spend teasing him with slow, agonizing movements. The blonde nodded curtly, jerking his head back to force stray bangs back atop his head and biting his lip as he drew back, watching Kyle carefully before shoving back in. Kyle's body jerked and a sharp, loud yelp echoed around them, but his legs drew him in closer.
"Upper," Kenny urged roughly.
"H-huh?" Green eyes fluttered at him in delirium. His vision was going fast, overrun by pure euphoria and a shocking heat coursing through him that no amount of rounds could ever get him acclimated to. Not that he could particularly complain about the lack of adaptation.
"Hold on to the upper," he elaborated, giving another gentle, insistent thrust.
Kyle looked at his one hand firmly secured around the shelf above his head. "I-I don't think it'll hold-"
"I watched Cartman climb on it it'll hold you fine!" he interjected whiningly. "Come on, it'll be easier on ya, trust me! Put that handie practice to work!"
Kyle scowled before sighing, the combination of his and Kenny's overwhelming hormones and the cock shoved balls-deep into his ass overlapping any need to dispute. "Don't drop me," he grumbled, Kenny tightening his grip as a silent reassurance. A deep breath and a small grunt left his throat as he quickly swiped his hand upwards, dipping a bit before snagging the shelf, clenching his nails down into the divots. He gasped as Kenny gave him a rewarding press upwards, his shoulders rolling as the slack was brought with the thrust. Kenny's right arm hooked around the small of his back, hips finding themselves in a rhythm of their own while he watched the redhead's reactions with a smarmy grin.
"Oh shit," Kyle gasped, head lolling back and finding himself staring at the vibrating steel as his boyfriend began a slow rhythm, the one always used for their quick encounters. Just moderately slow enough for Kyle to get acclimated to being stretched, for himself to not lose it far too quickly at the blazing clasp wrapped around his cock, but not enough to qualify as the overly-saccharine concept of making love. No, no, this was just the precursor, the promise of more to come. And Kenny's previous statement rang true once more; The faster Kyle was done with his end of the adjustment, the faster he could go.
Kenny's teeth drug over his bottom lip before he leaned forward, nipping at Kyle's shakily rising chest beneath a thin layer of cotton. He inwardly pouted, a mental note next time to get himself some skin before putting them into a situation where neither of their hands could stray much from their positioning. Kyle grunted, eyes scrunching with each propulsion inside of him. His arms were beginning to lock at the elbow, fingers only slightly relieved by Kenny's tight hold propping him upwards. A firm hand squeezed his ass, pulling the skin to spread him further for Kenny to delve into. He whimpered, his wound legs tightening, muscles contracting to encourage the blonde onwards. Kenny waited a beat, letting them pull him a little closer for three tiny spasms and taking his signal. His hand firmly dug into the globe of his cheek, pulling just a little further. He dug his toes into the front of his shoes, worn Converse planting down against the slick tile beneath him as his hips pressed just a bit faster with each push, watching the ragged breath racking through Kyle's throat.
Kyle's fingers clenched tighter around the shelves, interphalangeal joints locking into place, pain being passed by in favor of numbness, body much preferring to focus on the wonderful endorphins that Kenny was providing him with. His head fell back forward, wincing at the sudden strain on his neck as he locked views with Kenny, watching him trying to get his bangs out of his face with a frustrated sneer. He haphazardly let out a breath of air, blowing the hair follicles back towards the sides of his forehead. Kenny smirked, leaning forward a bit and Kyle craned his neck forward, the both of them only able to secure the barest of kisses. "Thanks," Kenny breathed.
"Mhm," he managed to eek out past another long-winded moan as Kenny slammed up into him. His body jolted, practically doing pull-ups on the shelf with each thrust. He couldn't help the mental laughing, hearing Stan's occasional lecture on how he really needed to work on his upper body strength now and again. Kyle had a feeling that this wasn't exactly the training regiment that his best friend had in mind for him. Kenny leaned forward a bit again and Kyle nearly groaned in anguish as he pressed against his neglected dick, just barely grinding between the both of them as Kenny moved.
Kenny bit his lip, right hand going to clasp firmly around his hip to pull him down to meet his rhythm. "How you holding up?" he asked breathlessly.
Kyle's response was nothing but an incoherent string of garbled mumbles, too distracted trying to keep his weight suspended and buck his hips for some friction. Kenny glanced down with a smirk, feeling the subtle rutting against his stomach and biting his cheek in concentration. "Keep yer legs around," he instructed, unsure if Kyle even heard him under his own noises until a long and heavy purposeful bobbing of his head. Kenny took his hand still pulling Kyle's ass, gently lessening to the tension of his metacarpals. Slowly his fingers extended, watching carefully for the strain being too much for Kyle to handle on his own as they pulled away, dripping from the now reddened skin with nail indentations until they lost contact completely. Kyle rolled his shoulders all he could, legs tightening once again as Kenny's hand slid up his thigh, goosebumps following his ticklish trail as he rounded over his hipbone and made way for his standing erection.
His mouth opened in a loud, startled gasp as a hand still lightly slicked with residual lube gripped around him. Just enough for a comfortable bout of jerking, subtle enough for him to make out the rough makeup of Kenny's lightly calloused palms. "Oh god, yes," he moaned in relief as the needed pressure finally wound its way around his skin, Kenny giving him nice, steady pumps, once per beat opposite his thrusting. Out went the hips, up went the hand. Kyle was filled with nothing but a blast of pleasure at each moment, no lulls from a second of suspended activity. He breathed out an exhausted whimper, looking again to see Kenny focused on his face, a short flexing of his arm muscle wound around him yet another reassurance that he was perfectly safe being held up this way.
Kyle gulped, feeling lube dribbling out of him and making a mess of the floor and his skin. The sensation of warmed latex, the steady sound of slicked flesh slipping in and out of him and smacking wetly against his ass. The shelf behind him continued to subtly rock and tremor with their combined weight, bottles sloshing with various chemicals as they swayed. The smell of bleach and sawdust was no longer prevalent, beaten full-force by the combined musk of the two sweaty bodies pressed so firmly against one another.
"Good?" Kenny breathed, getting another nod, this one brisker, more urgent. The environment, the situation, the risque nature of it all was building within him and fast. He almost wanted to beg for Kenny to just throw him down, make it easier on both of them so he could go faster without risking breaking his neck, but the moment was far too glorious to spoil. A thumb swiped over the head of his cock, feeling Kenny's own rubbing torturously over his prostate and sending a long shiver down his spine. His body was tensing, distal finger joints turning white with pressure against the shelves, teeth gritting and grinding. He struggled to keep his eyes opened, keep his focus on Kenny's reddening face, the thin layer of sweat breaking through his pores, the way every ounce of his focus was right back on him.
Kenny was nearly overwhelmed with the circumstance, as it always seemed to be. Too lost in the tight chasm, every nerve meant for Kyle to stimulate and the redhead doing so flawlessly. He flickered his eyes up, meeting the desperate, pleading look in green eyes that he was oh-so-fond of. It was the look that no one else in the world could get from Kyle, the boy far too stubborn to admit his faults and his longing for others to assist him in any way. No, no. It was a role that only Kenny got to take on, and he was the only one to firmly satisfy the boy's incessant neediness only let out behind closed doors. An honor and a privilege, Kenny considered it. His wrist popped up, two in quick succession, just to watch Kyle's mouth drop open and his face to be overtaken with surprise at the change in rhythm and the pleasure of the result. Another two. A slow one. A quick three with a bit of a gentle squeeze wormed between each pull. Kyle was lost, disoriented and drowning in everything Kenny was doing, staring at him with those deep jade eyes that spoke every word he couldn't make out in the mess of moans and yelps worming between them.
Kenny's torso began to tremor, stomach tightening as all blood was directed to where he wanted to stave off for just a little longer. But stuck in that constant, loving stare, he knew that it wasn't going to happen. His thigh muscles tightened, lungs barely able to expand as white spots crept into his vision. "Fuck!" he spat, overrun entirely as Kyle's muscles contracted tightly around him, hand picking up a quick, erratic rhythm as he groaned, head falling forward and hips snapping almost violently as he came. Kyle whimpered, neck lolling back once again as Kenny continued to spill into him through the condom, his toes curling and his breath become thin as the sensation became even more overwhelming.
Kenny grunted, taking a shaking breath as his hips came to a stop, legs wobbling and wrist still moving mechanically. "Goin' down," he said, not giving Kyle more warning as he loosened his grip around his waist enough for Kyle to be thrown off guard, yelping as he slipped from his hold on the shelf. Kenny quickly caught back around him as Kyle's arms automatically flew to around his neck, legs falling from his waist in the shock. Kenny placed his aching feet back on the ground before whirling him around, fingers wrapping in his curls and shoving him face-down into a shelf. His hand went back to its rhythm and Kyle yelped, digits unwinding from his curls and flying down, pressing up inside of him and tottering against his prostate. He screeched, voice echoing in the enclosed shelving and aching fingers scraping furiously against the metal like a trapped animal. He elbowed a bottle of stainless steel cleaner, barely feeling as it fell and the trigger slammed onto his skull, too focused on the jerking of his dick and the fingers playing their familiar game.
"Come on, Babe," Kenny cooed, leaning down exhaustedly and biting his clothed back sharply. "Come on."
Kyle whimpered and whined, body giving light convulsions as the stifling space and pleasurable predicament finally overwhelmed him. A long scream rang out, rattling his ribcage and slamming back into him from the resounding echo around him. He perched his shoulders back tightly, wound like a cat ready to pounce before he nearly collapsed forward as the darkness of euphoric hesitation became blinding white, spitting onto the tile and bottom shelves and his shoes. He gasped for breath, thrown from the pond of orgasm and back into the real world all too soon. He creaked his eyes open as Kenny dropped from his spent dick, panting heavily and feeling his boyfriend's hands preoccupying themselves with gently rubbing his back.
"You all right?" Kenny croaked.
Vision slowly returned to him through the fuzziness of his afterglow, relishing in the calmed sensation that only this moment could provide him. He gulped, a thick wad of saliva just barely making it through his dried pharynx, coarse from his constant noise. "Yeah," he whispered, fingers lightly tracing the coolness of metal beneath them before Kenny wrapped under his stomach, slowly pulling him out of the shelves. His clean hand found his hair again, guiding him to avoid Kyle smacking his head on the steel as he brought him out. Kenny turned him and straightened him up, leading Kyle's arms up and around his shoulders for stance.
"You sure?" he urged.
Kyle closed his eyes again, smiling and nodding against his thick hoodie. "I'm great." Kenny chuckled, petting through his hair adoringly, planting a soft, wet kiss against his temple. Kyle hummed, bringing a hand up to play with hairs brushing the back of Kenny's neck, leaning his head back and meeting his lusted gaze with one of his own.
Ken smirked, pecking his lips a bit. "Still hate the locale?"
Kyle paused, the scent of chemicals finally seeping back in through his haze and he shrugged lazily. "It served its purpose," he murmured. Kenny laughed again, wrapping around him and giving him a gentle squeeze, continuing to softly pepper him with gentle kisses that Kyle moaned happily at with each point of contact. "Should get dressed," he mumbled.
"Yeah, yeah," Ken rolled his eyes amusedly, giving one last peck before backing up, Kyle feeling empty without the warmth around him and pouting to himself. He sighed, wincing as he reached down to snag his jeans and boxers lightly hooked still around his left leg, working out the torsion of the fabric to start struggling to work them back up his right. Kenny leaned over, snagging a roll of paper towels and smirking, shaking it purposefully. "And look, I even chose somewhere we can clean up."
"Happiest of days, you're fucking brilliant," Kyle rolled his eyes, smirking as Kenny pouted and ripped a bunch off the group and handed it off.
"Clean off the sin," he instructed.
Kyle snorted, balling them up into a wad and reaching back to clean between his thighs. "Ain't enough Pledge in the world to scrub you clean, McCormick."
"You want me to be clean and abstinent?" he asked innocently, tearing off the condom and tossing it into a half-filled trash can of more towels before wiping off his cock. "You wanna wait till you're married to get plowed again?"
Kyle glanced up with a scowl. "Don't even joke about that," he snapped. Kenny cracked up, putting himself back into his jeans and bending down, quickly scrubbing Kyle's mess off the floor and shelf. Kyle watched him for a moment before shaking his head, tossing his towel into the garbage and securing his pants back around his hips.
Kenny frowned, "Well... good as I can get it," he declared. "Ya kinda fucked up some bottles," he gestured to an array of Windex, their labels marred with the telltale color of semen.
The redhead frowned, "Well I'm not the one who pointed my dick that way!" Kenny broke into laughter, getting what he could of the translucent mess off the containers, giving up halfway through. It'd dry later, who the fuck cared? Ken stood up beside him and smoothly tossed his towel into the trash, taking a look at Kyle and smirking again. "What?" Kyle blinked.
He snorted, moving and zipping down his hoodie, shrugging it off and passing it to Kyle. "I don't think you want dear ol' Sheila to see what a mess I made of you," he jerked his head to the lube residue still clearly displayed on Kyle's shirt.
"To be fair, she's seen me with worse," Kyle mumbled with a red face, taking the offer and slipping on the hoodie, frowning as he looked down to see it hanging halfway down his thighs as he zipped it up. "You're not that much taller than me, why is this thing longer than a dress?"
Kenny cocked his brow. "Perfectly sized for me, lands right here," he poked Kyle's waist. "You can tell yourself you're near my height all you want, but the clothes don't lie, Shortie."
"Oh fuck you!" Kyle scoffed, grabbing both their bags off the ground and swinging Kenny's up and into his stomach. The blonde oofed, arms clasping around the bag and shooting the younger a taunting smirk. Kyle straightened up primly, leading the way for both of them to leave the confined space. He let out a long breath of relief, almost forgetting that the world wasn't always restricted to a five by five cluttered space.
Kenny stepped out next to him, leaning down and bumping his shoulder as he began walking off back down the hall, Kyle catching up to his side. His fingers mindlessly linked with Kyle's as he lead them back towards the main lobby of the front of the school, looking at him with a smile.
Kyle returned the expression, "Good end to the day?"
"Great end to the day," he agreed. "Well... I mean, this isn't exactly the end of the day."
Kyle cocked his brow at his tone. "This a hint?"
"More like a blatant punch in the face," he smirked, stopping them before they rounded the hall corner into the open. He leaned down and captured his lips with his own, shivering at the breath of a moan passing through Kyle, the vibration settling pleasantly along his mouth. He pulled back with a grin, "But... we can end the day nicely, too," he said innocently.
Kyle snorted with a nod. "I'll tell Ma to expect your endless pit of a stomach for dinner."
"You take such good care of me," he smiled wider, giving another small kiss. "I gotta go copy homework," he rolled his eyes. "Hate t' fuck and leave, it ain't my style."
The redhead rolled his eyes back, "Hate to tell you this, Ken, but it kind of is. Every day."
"Hm," he mused. "Guess I'll have to stay extra long tonight then," he winked, unwinding their fingers and they stepped out into the alcove. "Since yer so lonely and all."
"You better live up to expectations," he smirked. They both paused, glancing as a janitor, talking into a walkie-talkie passed the both of them down into the hallway, muttering angrily into the device about grabbing another bottle of Windex as he briskly made his way around the bend.
They glanced at each other, panic quickly settling in. "Love you, bye," Kenny said hurriedly, stealing a last kiss before turning on his heel and heading towards the cafeteria.
"See you tonight!" Kyle said, already turned himself and heading towards the front doors. They both pivoted their heads subtly back towards each other as a confused shout rang through the acoustics of the hall, a lingering, mischievous smirk on both sets of lips before Kyle walked out into the sunlight and Kenny rounded down his hallway. At least, they both thought, Kyle's closet was a walk-in.
A/N: May or may not have based this on the janitor's closet in my old high school that was down by the 'basic course' classes. That was the fun part of being a student assistant to the deans, I got to go visit the janitors and steal their coffee and see how well their shelves were bolted into the ground. It was kind of a marvel.
Thanks for R&Ring!