Disclaimer: We. Don't. Own.

Word Count: 387

Blame the.amethyst.alchemist for the title.

"Goddammit!"

Kyle's spoon slammed down into the pan. "Why the hell can't I make anything?!"

"I don't know Kyle. You just lose. The Game." Stan smacked his forehead. "Goddammit!"

"GODDAMMIT!" Kyle yanked the spoon out and flung cookie dough at Stan's head. "Me too."

"Hey man, don't start anything you can't finish." Stan took a fistful of cookie dough and rubbed it into Kyle's Jew-fro.

ARGH!" Seizing a bigger handful, Kyle grabbed Stan around the waist and shoved it down his shirt.

"Ah dude, you're DEAD!" Stan slipped cookie dough down the back of Kyle's pants.

Kyle froze, the line crossed. Gaping open-mouthed at Stan, a hand on the small of his back, he narrowed his eyes, shoving Stan backward and dumping the rest of the bowl over his head.

"Ah! That was cheap!" Stan pulled cookie dough out of his hair and flung it at Kyle's face, but Kyle dodged it.

"HA! You lose again," he growled, shoving a hand into Stan's chest and pressing him again into the wall.

"What is it with you and shoving me? Violence is not the answer, Kahl."

Kyle stared in horror. "If you turn into Cartman, I'll kill you. And no, violence isn't the answer, but it's more fun."

"I agree." Stan suddenly grabbed Kyle's shoulders, turning around so that Kyle was the one pressed against the wall.

Well, this is different. Kyle stared back at Stan, pursing his lips. "Hmm. This isn't the usual."

"Ouch, Kyle. That was uncalled for."

"But it's true." Kyle said with a devilish grin.

""Well, maybe we should mix it up a little." Stan ground his lips against Kyle's, keeping his hands on the red-head's shoulders.

Kyle smirked, biding his time. Stan continued to molest his mouth, then wrapped a leg around him and pulled him around until Stan was, once again, pressed to the wall. "I win," he breathed, diving in for another kiss, this one rough and dominating.

Suddenly the back door swung open, and both boys froze.

Kyle spun around slowly, hoping, praying to god that it wasn't his mother. But he had pissed off the powers that be, and she was standing there, mouth open, eyes wide.

Both stared back.

She blinked first. "Try not to get the kitchen so dirty next time. And you have a room, Kyle."

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