Two Different Worlds
Word From the Author: The fic is of moderately long status approximately 7 chapters about 1,200- 2,200 words each. I will be releasing at least one chapter a week, maybe more. I always appreciate reviews, they help me to gauge how much people are enjoying my work and what elements I should keep or change in my future stories. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights so south park or any of its characters. These belong to comedy central. I make no profit of this work of fiction. It is solely for entertainment purposes.
I would like to thank the user theDoctorlies for beta reading this fic and keeping the readers from having to endure my horrible grammar.
Kyle Broflovski looks at himself in the mirror, adjusting his fedora. He frowns. The pinstripe suit he had on was just so…. not him. He hears obnoxious laughter and turns to see his brother Ike doubled over in the doorway.
"You look so ridiculous in that." Ike says, managing to stop laughing for just long enough to get that out. Kyle gives him a scowl and he walks away, continuing to project his laughter all the way down the stairs. Kyle slumps down into a chair, sighing. It's not as if he's in disagreement with Ike. In fact, he has been pretty adamant to his dad that the whole businessman thing isn't for him. But his dad would have no part of it.
" Well what would you want to do?" His dad askes with a sharp tone.
"Look, Kyle. We've been over this. You've had the finest schooling money can buy and now I'm going to train you so that one day you can run the family factory by yourself. Or maybe you would like to be on the other side of the glass, working for pennies a day and living in some hovel."
Kyle glares at him. Sometimes he hates that his father is so logical. Especially when he comes up with points that are as inarguable as that.
"Look, I know you think that I am against you but I'm only trying to look out for your best interests. One day you'll thank me." Gerald says back.
The sun is shining bright through the kitchen windows, giving the room a warm, almost bright new day feeling. His mother's at the stove cooking up a big batch of eggs while his father's sitting at the table sipping coffee and reading the paper.
"Oh Bubela! Look how handsome you look." She says as he steps into the kitchen dressed in his suit. Ike chuckles a bit until a sharp look from their mom makes him go quiet. Gerald puts down his paper smiling at Kyle.
"Yes Kyle looks like a real business man this morning." He says, ruffling the paper back up. Kyle sighs, giving his brother another dirty look.
" Look at my two grown men." Sheila says, laying a plate of eggs and bacon on the table in front of him. His mother had always been a good cook and the tasty meal lightens his mood a little bit. Sheila talks about her lunch plans with the other housewives while Gerald mostly stayed behind his paper, with the occasional, " yes dear" and "that's nice". Kyle sighs again. He sees the way his parents are. They act like casual acquaintances, hell, even complete strangers some days. He longs for something more yet his preferences make that impossible. He can already see his future. As the head of a company he'll marry to keep up appearances, of course. Some pretty little thing that he will take to parties and parade around the office.
He will spend many "late nights" at the factory fucking some young line worker and then come home feeling guilty and cheap. He can see it already, the scripted life he is bound to live, like a tragedy unfolding on stage.
The first thing Kyle notices about the factory is that it's dirty. The surfaces, the equipment, hell even the people are covered in a layer of black grime! He walks through carefully. God forbid he should come in contact with such filth. A man comes running up to him and his father. He's less dirty and better dressed than the workers but still clearly not management. Kyle can't quite put his finger on it.
"Ah, Kyle. I want you to meet our foreman, Craig Tucker." Gerald says. "Craig this is my son Kyle. He's going to be working with us learning how to run the factory." Craig sticks out his grimy hand and Kyle, under the gaze of his father, reluctantly takes it. "Well I'll leave you two alone to talk business." Gerald said, walking off towards the office. As soon as Gerald is out of sight Craig forcefully withdraws his hand and the smile on his face is replaced with a scowl.
"Everyone else may be impressed that you are the boss's son but not me. From my experience sons don't know shit about running businesses. Stay the hell out of my way and we won't have a problem." Craig turns around and walks off, leaving Kyle stunned. He's not sure whether to be offended or impressed by Craig's little tirade. He's the owner's son and for most people that's enough for him to be treated with respect but the man has a point. He doesn't know the first thing about running a factory and will probably get in the way. Kyle decides to put it out of his mind, wiping the grease from his hands with a handkerchief .
The manager's office is a huge room with several desks. There is a big, plate glass window that allows the admin staff to look out onto the factory floor. The only person currently in the room is a young, well dressed woman operating a type writer. As if on cue she looks up at him, extending her hand.
"I'm Wendy Testaburger. Pleased to meet you." Kyle takes her hand, a little confused. The women he is used to are dolls basically. Pretty faces that only do light domestic work if anything. But this Wendy seemed very tough, almost mannish in her business domineer. She has almost a bossy tone for someone who Kyle assumes must be the secretary. Wendy spends the next hour showing him around the office. He learns the filing system as well as a few other administrative tasks. "Just ask if you need help on anything." She says as he sits down to look at some reports. Kyle smiles. In a different world, a just world she would be the one training to take over this place.
After what seems like hours Kyle straightens out the stack of reports and puts them in the out box. They look right to him, but he isn't too worried. He is sure father will have someone double checking everything he does. He leans back on his chair and stares out the window onto the factory floor. There are dozens, maybe hundreds of workers out their toiling away at their jobs. However one stands out to him. A black haired blue eyed white guy working on one of the closer lines. He is pretty well built although not ridiculously so. Kyle can feel himself getting hard. He blushes and leans in so the desk is covering his lap.
"Hey Wendy who is that guy? The one standing on belt 3 next to the blonde?" Wendy looks up and out the window and he can see her eyes glaze over for just as second.
"That's Stanley Marsh. He's been with the company for 3 years, great worker. Always one of the last ones to leave. His blonde friend is Kenny McCormick, he is of…. lesser stock." Wendy says, struggling to find less offensive words to explain Kenny. Kyle smiles. He likes Stan already. Maybe working here won't be so bad after all.
Kyle goes to lunch with his father who introduces him to a Mr. Clyde Donovan. Clyde is a soft-spoken man in a lower end suit. He works for Macy's and has been stocking the factory's products for years. Kyle orders a steak and some wine and mostly watches his father negotiate a deal with the soft-spoken man. It's just the kind of thing that bores Kyle to death and he imagines he'll be doing it for the next 50 years. His own personal hell. His mind wanders back to Stan, with his buff shoulders and soft smile.
When he gets back to the office there is another stack of reports waiting for his approval. He spends the rest of the day completing the reports and sneaking glances at Stan whenever he can.
At 5:00 Gerald comes out of the office, coat in hand. "Kyle you coming?"
"You go ahead. I'm gonna stay late and finish these reports."
Kyle is surprised when he feels his father's hands on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you. I know you may not enjoy it now but give it time. You're good at it. Keep working hard and eventually it will pay off. You'll see." His father smiles as he leaves the office.
Kyle goes back to the paperwork. He wonders what his dad would say if he knew the real reason he was staying late. He looks out through the window and sees Stan, one of the last workers still toiling away at his station. He begins to get hard as he thinks of his plans for later. He's normally a coward when it come to this kind of stuff but what has he got to lose? He is already dying inside. Plus he has a feeling about Mr. Marsh.
Kyle looks up from his paperwork and is surprised to find Stan gone. He glances at the clock and sees that it is nearly 6. He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair and rushes out of the office. If he missed him he doesn't know what he will do. He runs across the factory managing to miss nearly cracking his head open on several slick spots on the floor. Frantic, he bursts through the door of the employee locker room, running past the lockers and the urinals. He can hear the sound of running water as he turns the corner.
The first thing he sees is Stan's ass. It's perfect, he's got those two dimples in the lower corner of the cheeks that drive Kyle crazy and he can't look away. Stan turns around and Kyle's face goes bright red. "Sorry." He says.
"Ah, no big deal" He says turning around. "You're the owner's son. Right?" Stan says, turning around. If Kyle had any chance to look away it's gone now. Right there in the open is Stan's cock and it's beautiful. Big and thick, swaying ever so slightly with his movement. Even his balls are perfect, huge and the perfect round shape. He doesn't know what he was thinking, this guy isn't going to be interested in him. In fact he's probably about to get the shit beat out of him for staring at him in the shower.
"I'm…. um. Please call me Kyle." He says, extending his hand. Stan takes it and gives him a firm handshake. Kyle notices that Stan's skin is gritty, about as far away from his own supple hands as one can get. He likes it. It's got kind of a rugged manliness to it.
"So what can I do for you Kyle?" Stan says, eying him with a curious grin.
"Well, um, I'm wondering if you would join me for dinner." He manages to choke out.
Stan face goes from curious to confused. "Look, I already told your father I don't know nothing about the product that went missing and that is the honest truth."
"No, it's nothing like that. No business, I just thought it would be nice to get to know you, personally."
Stan gives him another confused look and Kyle feels like an idiot. He didn't even consider that mingling with the workers would be considered irregular. He's never really paid attention to those sorts of societal rules.
"I guess that would pretty nice of you, mister." Stan says.
"Great, I'll just wait for you outside then." Kyle says, slinking away. "Oh, and you might want to get dressed." Now it is Stan turning bright red.
Kyle can hear Stan clanking around in the locker room from just outside the door. He imagines him slipping into his undergarments, then his clothes. He curses at himself and hides his erection with his suit jacket. Stan emerges a few seconds later. He is wearing rough wool pants and a rough button up work shirt. It's a stark contrast to Kyle's finely tailored suit. As they walk Kyle realizes they are the only ones still left in the building. He's not sure if that's comforting or terrifying. Surely if this brute caught on to him he could murder him where he stands with little trouble.
"So how long have you been working here?" Kyle asks.
"Bout 3 years." Stan says in a nervous, barely audible tone.
Kyle can tell Stan is still kind of suspicious and Kyle can feel the awkward tension between them, as if they were from two different worlds. In a way they are. As they walk Kyle attempts to say something but comes up dry. He thinks about all the petty things he talks about with his friends, his family and how alien they would seem to someone in Stan's situation.
They walk into a restaurant that borders on fancy. It's more of a causal place for Kyle but Stan looks around nervously as they stand waiting to be seated. The maitre d is eying him like he is an enemy spy. Kyle gives the man a dirty look and he shrugs, taking them to a table. Poor Stan looks like a scared puppy dog, nervously eying other diners dressed in fine suits and the best silks.
"I don't really think I belong here." Stan says.
Kyle looks shocked and saddened to hear Stan put himself down like that. " If you had a suit I think you would look way better than any of these idiots." Stan blushes at Kyle's comments and sinks further down into his chair.
" So I met most of the staff today. Almost everybody seems nice. "
"Almost?" Stan says inquisitively.
"Well I met Clyde."
"Oh yea, Clyde can be a little bit of an-" and Kyle can tell Stan is trying to find a world to explain his boss that is not so insulting.
"Asshole." Kyle says.
For a second Stan looks shocked. But Kyle can see a smile start to creep onto his face, then a full blown laugh.
"You don't know the half of it." Stan says in between laughter. "I don't think that guy has ever had a happy thought in his life."
This seems to lighten Stan's mood a little and he begins to talk more freely.
"If you don't mind me asking, what is it you really want to do? I don't mean to insult you but I really don't see you as the type to run a factory." Stan says.
"It's hardly an insult. I was practically dragged into this job. I'm not really sure what my true calling is, but it certainly isn't this. What about you? I don't see you being satisfied operating machines for 12 hours a day."
Stan leans in a little closer. As if the whole restaurant will hear his plan and start laughing. " I want to own a farm. You know till the dirt with my own hands, raise some animals. I love being around nature. I go to the park every Sunday. I put away a little money from every paycheck so eventually I will be able to afford a little plot somewhere." He blushes. "I know it's stupid."
"It's not stupid." Kyle says. "In fact I think it's charming. It certainly sounds a lot better that being cooped up in a factory all day. No matter which side of the glass you are on. I kind of like it. I almost want to be there with you." Kyle looks down to see that he is holding Stan's hand over the table. Embarrassed he pulls his hand back. He looks across the table and Stan has the same look of guilty pleasure on his face. He smiles at him and wonders if he could be harboring the same guilty secret.
When the food comes Kyle can tell Stan is trying his hardest to impersonate what upper class manners are supposed to be. He hides a chuckle when Stan dabbles his lips with a napkin. Kyle wonders if he would look similarly lost eating a meal at Stan's apartment. Suddenly he wonders about Stan's home. Does he have any siblings, parents? He wants to ask but knows he's already pushed the limits of tonight enough.
Kyle pays the bill and tells the waiter there will be extra if he can keep the staff quiet about Stan. The waiter winks at him as they leave. They pause a moment before Stan gets on the train going downtown.
"Your sure you don't want me to ride with you home?" Kyle says.
"It's not really your type of neighborhood. You wouldn't feel safe."
They both pause for an awkward moment and Kyle imagines that if he liked girls this would be the feeling before a first kiss. Instead he sticks out his hand. Stan shakes it and they wish each other safe journeys home.