This is the spin-off to my Liars & Love story.
I'm releasing this as a two chapter ThomasxKyle prequel. It takes place before Craig's party.
Please see my profile if you are curious about status of next chapter, I have created an update schedule and will be posting it there.
If I get enough interest, I will consider a sequel to take place after Liars & Love. So if you want more ThomasxKyle/StanxKyle after this is finished let me know. I don't bite, and I love feedback/questions/comment/reviews/etc! In fact this story only came about thanks to Miss MoKa & Cuma pushing me to work on this, and giving me an excuse to write a little Thomas and Kyle smut.
********Enjoy********
Jellyfish
Chapter 1: Caught Inside
*Thomas POV******************
Asshole! You snuck out when I was sleeping, and you aren't on the beach. I wanted to go out to eat, and maybe check out the surf shop, where are you?
I shake my head as I look down at the text message. I admit it, I snuck out. I left a naked guy sleeping in my bed for the maid to deal with, but it seemed like a good idea at the time!
Appearance-wise, Jack's totally my type; petite, wild hair, great nose, sexy smile, and a killer ass. He gets bonus points because he's a gnarly little surfer, and a total freak in bed. I'm the grin and avoid it type, so I made the mistake of keeping my mouth shut, and indulging Jack; but the boy is such a gold digger, checking out the surf shop? Last time we did that I ended up buying him a new surfboard. The boy has no shame. Plus he's a complete pain in the ass.
I'm at the airport in Colorado. I'll call you next week when I get home.
Jack is a one night stand that turned into the one I can't get rid of. It's probably my own fault, because I normally date guys who are a couple of years older, and Jack is the first guy my age that I've ever slept with. Now, he's befriended all of my friends, and made himself a permanent fixture at my favorite beach. Would it be too cruel to dump him with a text? It would, right?
You didn't mention a trip to Colorado? Chip's party is this weekend, you're supposed to be my date!
Speaking of befriending my friends, Chip's my seventeen year old next door neighbor, and my best friend in SoCal. Chip is the gay boy who's straight except for when he's fucking you. I lost my virginity to Chip a couple of years back. After fucking me, he turned around an hour later, and screwed his girlfriend in the exact same bed. He's a bit of a bastard that way.
I'm here for my friend Craig's birthday. Tell Chip I said hello. Don't fuck him!
I regret the last part of that text the moment after I hit send.
Don't get jealous, Thomas, you know I love you, right?
Don't be fooled. Jack's a perfect example of someone who's unable to distinguish between sex and love. Trust me, I know love when I see it, I've been in love with the same person since I was nine. My love is totally one sided, and I don't have a chance in hell of ever being loved back, but unrequited love is still love. In fact, it's the best kind of love, the one I'll take to my grave. As long as I have him, I don't need another love, and this thing with Jack...
Nope, I'm not jealous at all! In fact, you probably should fuck him, because this just isn't doing it for me!
Better to pull the Band-Aid off now, instead of making him wait around for me to get home, less drama too. After I hit send, I take a moment to block his number, slide the phone into my jeans pocket, zip up my new winter jacket, and head toward the luggage pickup.
*Kyle POV*******************
"Kyle, that's Stan calling again. I'm going to answer and tell him to fuck off." Ike sits up in the passenger seat of our mom's Toyota 4Runner and pulls my phone out of the holder.
"No, Ike, just ignore it." I reply. Ike looks disappointed, but he nods, and goes back to screening my calls.
Our parents are out of town for two weeks visiting our relatives in Connecticut. It was a pain in the ass, but I did manage to get their permission to use the car to pick Thomas up at the airport, and that's where we're currently heading.
Of course, the privilege of using the car, and entertaining an out of town visitor while my parents are away came with a shitload of rules. No touching the cell phone while driving, no passengers except for Ike and Thomas allowed in the car, no drinking, no drugs, no wild parties, and no bringing girls home. Well, at least the last one won't be a problem, since I've recently came out to pretty much everyone, except for my parents, and Ike's currently crushing on two of his male classmates.
"Ah, now the dickheads texting you." Ike informs me.
"Shit, just give it here." We're at a stop light, so I hold out my hand.
"Nope, no texting while driving." My little brother reminds me, and moves the phone out of my reach.
"Don't read my texts, Ike." I warn him, but since the light is green I've missed my chance to grab it out of his hand.
Of course, Ike ignores me, and immediately starts reading the message out loud.
"I'm really sorry about this afternoon, so stop ignoring my calls! We need to talk, call me when you get this. I love you."
"I love you?! What a dick! Stan's just trying to keep you as his sidepiece!" I take my eyes off of the road long enough to glare daggers at Ike, before turning back to the road. The entrance to the airport is on the right, so I turn into it.
Stan doesn't actually love me, he just gets stupid when we fight, and will say anything to get me to forgive him. He's actually a really great friend that way, but I can't blame Ike for being angry at Stan. I feel that way too. In fact, right now I'm so pissed off at Stan that I don't care if I ever see him again... Okay that's a lie, but I am pretty damn pissed off!
As I'm maneuvering through the heavy airport traffic, Ike is already ringing Thomas up on my phone to let him know we're here, so I pull into the cell phone waiting lot, and park in one of the few available spots. I'm really glad that Thomas decided to visit, I need a distraction, and Thomas is always a blast to hang out with, so the timing couldn't be more perfect.
*Thomas*******************
"Dude, you're looking sort of studly in these pictures." Kyle's little brother waves a surfing magazine in front of my face, and I roll my eyes at him. The two of us are sitting around the living room in our pajamas eating popcorn and watching crappy movies on Netflix.
"Who's the kid with the fucked up hair, do you know him? He's sort of my type, can you introduce us?" He asks with a smile. I pull the magazine he's reading out of his hand, and look at it. It's the Surfing magazine I have a layout in, but it just came out this month. I don't even have a copy of it myself, since it wasn't a big deal to me. Chip's dad was the photographer who shot it. Chip is also in the pictures, and the guy Ike's asking about just happens to be Jack, in fact this photo shoot was the day I met Jack.
"Dude, he's fifteen, you're nine! He's too old for you, and why do you even have this?" I toss it back at him.
"I stole it from Kyle." He says with a impish smile, and plops down on the couch beside me. "He's got a whole stash of them hidden under his bed."
"Bullshit." I grin at him, and shake my head.
"No, Seriously, check it out next time you're up there." Ike tells me. Right now Kyle's upstairs having his shower, so I'm honestly tempted to run to his room to check, because why would Kyle be hording copies of the magazine I'm in? Before I can leave, Ike grabs my arm.
"My mom baked us some cookies before she left, come eat some with me." Ike commands. I get up from the couch and allow him to lead me into the kitchen.
I'm still full from dinner and the popcorn, so I stop Ike from pouring me a big glass of milk, but I accept one of his mother's homemade oatmeal cookies, and sit down at the kitchen table to pick at it.
"I just figured you might have the munchies or something." Ike say's knowingly as he finishes pouring his milk and sits it on the table along with the carton.
"I'm good, dude." I tell him, not surprised that he knows that I get high. Even though Kyle and I keep our partying to Kyle's bedroom, Ike's a pretty smart kid.
Plopping down across the table from me, he smiles shrewdly and casually drops the bomb, "So Thomas, you're in love with my brother, right?"
The tiny piece of cookie that I just swallowed gets caught in my throat, sending me into a fit of coughing. Ike pushes his glass of milk across the table to me, and I grab it and guzzle half the glass.
"Yeah, mom's oatmeal cookies tend to do that to people." Ike smirks, and waits for me to grab a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table, and wipe off my lips, before he continues.
"If you're trying to hide it, you're doing a crappy job! You watch him way too much, and each time you visit, you seem to get worse. That's how I know." He answers the question that I was about to ask, leaving me staring at him nervously. If Ike knows the secret that I've been hiding since 4th grade, does that mean that Kyle also knows?
"Don't worry, bro, my brother's too wrapped up in Stan to notice any of the other guys who are interested in him. He has no clue." Ike assures me, but far from relieving me, he has just kicked open the number one fear that I've been harboring since learning that Kyle came out.
Other guys are interested in him?
Well, of course they are, Kyle is brilliant and kind, but he's also one of those unconventional beauties; he has this wild head of shoulder length bright red hair, coupled with a fucking adorable aquiline nose, and a great smile.
When I was nine years old, I fell for his cuteness, and he's been my masturbation fodder of choice since the first time I rubbed one off inside my tighty whities. Puberty only managed to improve on what was already perfection, adding an alluring quality that turns me on like nobody's business, so now that we're older my fantasies have become a hell of a lot more erotic.
"Listen, Thomas, I like you a lot better than any of the other jackasses who have been nosing around my brother, so I'm just going to come out and say it." The worry in Ike's voice earns him my full attention.
"I'm not exactly sure what's going on with my brother and Stan this time, but he's got Kyle's head all fucked up. Stan's obviously not interested in him romantically. The dick had the nerve to drag my brother around to jewelry stores looking for rings for his girlfriend. Stan plays it off like he doesn't know how my brother feels, but trust me dude, he knows. Fuck everyone in town knows." Ike's anger is rising, so I push the plate of cookies across the table to him, and top off his milk. He takes a deep breath, chugs some milk, and continues.
"My brother's already lost that war, and he knows it. He's trying to move on, but Stan is making it difficult. So, if you're serious about Kyle, you need to just man up and go for it." Ike finishes, just as the doorbell rings.
"That'll be my boys, we're having a sleepover, so I need to get that." He stands up and starts heading for the living room.
I get up and follow him out of the kitchen, but before I can head up the stairs, he calls out.
"One last thing, bro, if you hurt my brother, or give him some fucked up disease, I will fucking kill you."
My mind is going in a hundred different directions, so I don't reply, I just nod, and continue up the stairs. Ike Broflovski is very scary for a nine year old!
Kyle's still in the shower, so I let myself into his room, and pull out my carry-on suitcase from the closet where Kyle stashed it.
I always stay at the Broflovski's whenever I visit Colorado, so it totally feels like a home away from home. It's much more modest than my families place in Malibu, but to be honest I feel more comfortable here.
My parents are wonderful, don't get me wrong, my TS put my mother through hell, and my real father left because he couldn't deal with me, but she got remarried, and my stepfather pampers the hell out of us. He pretty much gives me free reign to live my life however I choose.
Years of high priced therapy has helped with suppressing my TS, but my biggest improvement came when I was eleven years old and picked up my first surfboard, the medical marijuana treatment came a few years later, and now I'm nearly symptom free. I'm not completely cured, I'll never be completely cured, but now I only have tics when I'm under very serious stress.
Like right now!
"SHIT-BITCH!"
I zip open my carry-on and take out a black travel case, which contains a small baggie of pre-rolled joints, and my lighter.
"ASSHOLE!"
This sucks so bad, even though Kyle has experienced it before, I still don't want him to see me like this. It's so fucking uncool! My hands are shaking as I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead, I open Kyle's bedroom window just a tiny crack to air out the smoke, and plop down at his desk to light up.
If Ike knows what he's talking about, and I have no doubt that he does, this visit could be my best chance, but what I have with Kyle now is pretty damn awesome, and I don't want to risk it by taking advantage of him when he's weak.
On the other hand, I don't want to lose him to someone else either. Stan is one thing, he's an impenetrable obstacle, but he's also harmless, because Stan's straight, the douche has a long term girlfriend, and he's too fucking stupid to realize what's right in front of his face.
"ASSHOLE-COCK!"
I take another hit, lean back in the chair, and focus on calming down. On top of the desk, next to a large pile of school books, I notice a stack of informational pamphlets from various universities. Picking through the pile I smile when I see the one from UCLA School of Law. UCLA is the school that my stepfather went to, and it's probably where I'll end up. I'm pretty pleased to see that Kyle is also considering it.
Grinning, I place it front and center on the desk, and take the other school pamphlets, and toss them into Kyle's wastepaper basket.
I take one more hit off the joint. I'm mellowing out now, and feel much calmer.
Hearing the buzz of a phone, I get up and walk over to Kyle's dresser to check my cell, but it's not me getting a call. Kyle's phone is sitting right next to mine, and it's a text message from Stan. I'd love to know what the prick has to say, but it's none of my business, and reading other people's private messages is nasty, and totally not my style.
I ignore his phone, I walk over to the bedside table, and place the joint on a small silver dish that serves as our makeshift ashtray, before picking up the large jar candle that is sitting next to it. I read the label 'Bahama Breeze'. I grin as I pull off the top, and sniff. It's a great scent, I take it back to the desk so I can pick up my lighter. I light the candle and sit it down, than flip off the bedroom light.
It might be the middle of winter, and freezing, but at least now it smells like summer. Remembering the magazines Ike mentioned, I bend down, and peek under Kyle's bed.
Holy shit, Ike wasn't kidding! Kyle really does have a bunch of copies of my magazine. How fucking cute! I decide to pretend that I don't know about that.
I toss my carry-on in the corner, and search out the control for Kyle's electric blanket, flipping it on high I crawl under the covers and bury my head in Kyle's pillow. Jesus, how I've missed electric blankets, they simply aren't needed in California. The bed heats up quickly, and I notice that the pillow smells like Kyle. This is just fucking Heavenly! I usually sleep on the pull out couch downstairs, but it would be awesome to sleep here tonight. I wonder if I can sweet talk Kyle into it?
Hearing the bedroom door click open, I pull my head out of Kyle's pillow, expecting to see a cute red head fresh from the shower, but I'm disappointed when a tall dark haired jackass walks into the room instead.
"Why the fuck are you here, douchebag?" Stan grumbles, as he enters the room, "Where's Kyle?"
Yeah, that's another thing about Stan Marsh, he and I pretty much can't stand each other!
"Kyle's in the bathroom getting ready for bed, and I'm here because I was invited, why the fuck are you here?" I grin at him, and he glares back.
"Dude, it's none of your fucking business why I'm here." Stan huffs, while looking around the room with a frown. Spotting the joint, he walks over and picks it up, holding it out like it's something dirty.
"What the fuck? Is this yours?"
Rolling my eyes, I reach out and pluck it from his hands.
"Fucking, Thomas, Kyle's little brother is downstairs, do you really need to smoke that shit in the house?"
Kyle enters the room, dressed in a thick orange bathrobe, and snaps at Stan, "Shut the fuck up, dude, Ike isn't some innocent baby."
I grin happily, because Kyle took my side over Stan's. Take that asshole!
Kyle looks seriously adorable, his hair's still wet, and he's got a white bath towel in one hand that he's using to dry it. He walks across the room, and drops down next to me on the bed.
"Shit, dude, I've been calling you all day, why haven't you called me back?" Stan whines, and seats himself in Kyle's desk chair.
"I thought you had that thing with Wendy tonight." Kyle tells him casually, while peering around the room, looking everywhere except for where Stan is.
"That candle smells better than I expected," he smiles softly and takes a deep breath. I can tell he's not as calm as he's letting on.
Kyle nods towards the joint in my hand, "Can I have a hit of that?"
"Kyle, you shouldn't be doing that shit." Stan nags annoyingly, which makes putting the joint in my mouth, lighting up, and taking a big hit all that more enjoyable. I hold out the lit joint towards Kyle, but he ignores my hand, and grabs a hold of my collar.
"It's better shotgun." He tells me, and pulls my lips to his. I happily go with the flow, exhaling into his open mouth, before pulling back, but only the tiniest bit.
I stare into his eyes, waiting for him to exhale, and once he does I take a chance and kiss him. It's not a big kiss, just a quick graze of my lips against his. I know I'm pressing my luck, and having Stan Marsh in the room is giving me performance anxiety, but it's our first kiss, and I'm praying to god that he doesn't kill me for it.
He doesn't kill me, he doesn't even get mad. Instead he smiles at me, before looking over at Stan and saying casually, "Dude, I kind of already have plans with Thomas tonight, so can we do this some other time?"
I wish I had my cell phone in hand, because I would have loved to get a picture of the look on Stan's face. It was a cross between total shock and all out rage, It was fucking priceless.
I'm certain Stan's going to object, or at least complain, since he's always such a little bitch, but he doesn't say a word. He just gets up, and walks out the door, slamming it behind him.
Kyle looks at the door, before turning to look at me. At first he's got this haughty smile thing going on, kind of proud, kind of cocky, but than it immediately fades away, and his beautiful eyes fill with tears.
"Oh shit, Kyle!" I quickly drop the joint in the ashtray and put my arms around him. He completely breaks down, burying his face into my shoulder and sobbing loudly.
After a few moments of crying, he tries to pull himself together, "Fuck him!"
His grief turns to anger, and he lets it all out, "She cheats, she lies, she dumps him for another guy, than she comes crawling back pregnant, and not only does he forgive her he's going to ask her to marry him! It's not even his kid! Why is he so fucking dumb?"
"I don't know." I whisper, holding him tighter, and trying to control both my surprise and also the pain that's nearly overwhelming me. It's fucking killing me to see Kyle hurting like this.
Everything makes sense now, I almost feel sorry for Stan. Wendy is Stan's weakness, just like Kyle is mine, and Stan is Kyle's.
It takes a special kind of fucked up devotion to put someone else before yourself to that extent, it takes a powerful love, and I feel terrible for Kyle right now, because I realize what Ike said earlier is true. Kyle's lost this war, Stan will marry Wendy, and even if he doesn't he will probably never get over her.
I've witnessed Stan and Kyle's relationship as an outsider for the past six years. I have a hard drive full of emails that Kyle has sent me, nearly every one mentions Stan, when they fight he calls me constantly, when they make up he calls much less.
I'm used to it now. I promised myself years ago that no matter what I will always stand by his side, and be there for him whenever he needs me to pick up the pieces. Even if I can't have him, he is the only one for me, he's the reason none of my crushes last very long. Kyle Broflovski the love I will take to my grave.
*End of Chapter one**********************
Chapter two shouldn't take too long!