South Park doesn't belong to me.
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Kyle and Stan agreed on almost everything.
That's why they made such super best friends.
And also why, while watching a movie too full of commercials to really know what it was about, except that it had Scarlett Johansson in it, when they turned to each other, each prepared to comment on the fact that Scarlett Johansson was one of the sexiest creatures ever to walk the earth, and instead met eyes and stared meaningfully for a moment or two, they were able to make the decision together that this would be a good time to make out on Stan's couch.
And even though Kyle disagrees with Stan, thinks that this most definitely makes them at least thirty percent gayer than they were before, rather than the measly ten percent Stan has suggested, they rut against each other as is expected of those with raging hormones.
They make their next decision through a series of glances, smirks and slight nods: they should take this upstairs.
There's faint music playing in Stan's room (there's always music on somewhere in Stan's room,) and while Kyle thinks that's a waste of energy and kind of pointless if you're not going to be in the room to hear it, he doesn't comment on it.
Besides, in this case the music is kind of nice to have in the background, to distract them from the awkward silence that stretches as Stan wrestles with the fly of a new pair of jeans that simply don't want to cooperate.
They agree that new jeans are overrated- that clothes in general are overrated, and promptly introduce their naked bodies to each other.
And while Kyle scoffs in disgust as Stan tells him that he really is kind of ridiculously fucking cute and that he shouldn't hide his hair under his hat so much, he must concede to the compliment that he sounds sexy when he's caught between a gasp and a curse, since he's always secretly thought so himself, and admits that Stan looks best like this, when he's slightly disheveled.
They agree that condoms are annoying, but a good idea, and that stealing Shelly's hand lotion, while dangerous, is an even better idea.
And even though Kyle has never really liked The Shins, he can't help the little lift and roll he feels in his chest that comes with each rise in pitch and intensity of James Mercer's voice as he melodically murmurs and screeches his way through "Kissing the Lipless," since it always seems to coincide with the exact moment that Stan thrusts into him.
They agree, as they lay side by side, breathing hard and laughing through the slight aches, the stickiness and the realization that Stan's room smells like sex and oh god, somebody's going to notice, that this was a really good idea.
They agree that they'll never do it again.
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Thanks for reading!