The bell rang and signaled the end of the school day. Tomorrow was Friday and Kyle was thankful. It had been a long week- especially without his 'super best friend' Stan. He figured he was just out sick for a couple days but he hadn't been there all week. He had called a couple times during the week to see what was going on but his parents simply said he was ill and couldn't talk. [Knowing them though, they were just overreacting. They always fucking overreact]

He waded through the crowd of his high school peers to his locker and swiftly sorted through what he would need to take home to study and what could be left here. Luckily tonight's load of work was significantly light. He shut his locker and exited the building making his way to the bus.

He was almost off school property when the muffled voice of Kenny caught his attention. He turned to his blond friend in his typical orange parka. By the looks of it he had been trying to catch up to him and sounded like he was out of breath. The boy in orange hunched over with his hands on his knees supporting his weight, he quickly held up a finger as if to say 'One moment'.

After he sucked in a fair amount of oxygen he stood upright and looked at Kyle who was patiently waiting for him to begin speaking. He slid down his orange hood so he didn't have to fight for more air and began to speak-

"Dude, I saw Stan last night." He stated simply preparing himself for an onslaught of Kyle's questions.

"How? His shit head parents wouldn't even let me talk to him on the phone." He furrowed his brow as he spoke.

"They were out so I picked the lock and went in to see what was going on. He looked like a zombie, man."

"What's he got- the flu?"

"Something like that. He wouldn't let his folks take him to the hospital. You know how he is…" He trailed off momentarily, "Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go see him with me tomorrow night?" A smile graced the blonde's lips as he cocked his head to the side awaiting a reply.

"What time?" [It's not like he had anything better to do.]

"Ah shit…around 5ish? He said his parents were going to a relative's wedding or some shit and they wouldn't be back until Saturday night."

"Alright count me in. I gotta go, dude. Later!" The redhead ran off in the opposite direction and waved a goodbye to the blond pulling his orange hood back up. [He made a mental note to bring Lysol and hand sanitizer with him tomorrow night. He sure as hell didn't want what his friend had succumbed to.]

The next day…

It was Friday and he had escaped school with no weekend homework which meant he wouldn't have to struggle between going to see Stan and getting shit done. He walked through the front door of his house his mother waddled up to him and greeted him with a kiss upon the forehead.

"How was your day, booby?" Every day she asked the same thing only to hear the same answer day after day…

"Fine." It kept her from prattling on too much. [Lord fucking knows that woman can prattle.] He went up to his room and dropped his school bag on the floor. He dug through his pocket and checked his phone for the time. It was only 3pm- he had time to spare. With that he decided he might as well shower and clean up. Even stepping into the hot stream of water didn't wash away his concern for Stan, though.

He continued his shower a leisurely pace, dressed, and headed back towards his room. He once again picked up his phone to reveal the time- 4:27pm. He felt tension building in his chest; time wasn't going by fast enough for his liking. He sighed and just as he was about to stick his phone back in his pocket it vibrated. He flipped it open to reveal a text message from none other than Kenny:

'im outside ur house lets go!'

He pocketed his phone and made his way downstairs. He pecked his mother on the cheek and said goodbye. He had already told her he'd be going out to eat with Kenny today.

"Stay out of trouble, booby!" was the last thing he had heard her say as he exited the house in a hurry. He looked around briefly to find Kenny. [Thankfully he never had to play 'Where's Waldo' due to the bright orange parka.] He walked over to Kenny and they took stride silently towards their destination. After a few minutes of silence Kyle asked,

"Have his parents left yet?" He raised a brow in question.

'No but they'll be gone by the time we get there' is what he deciphered from the muffled blond.

The walk to Stan's had been all but pleasant. It was cold and way to fucking windy outside and both the teenage boys were eager to escape into a warm house. Stan's parents were gone by now and he and Kenny stood on his doorstep. Kenny fiddled with the lock for a moment and swung the door open gesturing for Kyle to go first. They walked into the living room to find Stan dozing off as a Terrance and Phillip rerun played on the TV. ['Toilet humor' never gets old, dude] He was only in his boxers and an undershirt with a small, light blanket thrown over his midsection. By the way he was laying sprawled out you could tell he was too warm.

Kyle slid off his shoes and threw his jacket over the back of the recliner before kneeling by Stan (far enough away that Stan wouldn't breathe on him of course). Just as he was about to poke him Kenny crawled on top of him and muffled what he imagined was along the lines of

'Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty!' He had his arms on either side of a pale Stan and bounced eagerly. Stan placed a hand on the blond boys face and pushed him off weakly.

The blond clad in orange just laughed and retreated to the recliner.

"Fuck off, dude. Damn…" He grumped and sucked in a breath of air before turning his head to the side where Kyle was kneeling. He stared grumpily in his direction as Kyle offered a small smile in return. He didn't look amused, however he did look like he was sweating pretty bad.[Like he'd just got done with some hot sexfucking] The redhead placed a hand gingerly on his forehead and furrowed his light brows.

"Damn man…you're burning like a fucking hellfire" he pulled his hand back [and unconsciously wiped it on his jeans] and stood up. "I'm gonna go get you a cold cloth and some Tylenol or something."

He made his way through the all too familiar house to the bathroom. [Made him think of all the sleep overs they'd had. 'Would it be totally gay to sleep in the same bed still?'] He retrieved a cool cloth, a couple pills, and hurried back to his sickly friend. Kenny lounged comfortably on the recliner and stared silently at the TV [He looked like the living-mother-fucking-dead with the way he was staring at it]. Finally he blinked and broke the hypno-stare at the TV.

Kyle handed the pills to the brunette. [Kyle noted his hand was sweaty and clammy and again wiped it on his jeans] He took them without saying a word using the water he had on the coffee table to chase them down. Once settled back on the redhead placed the cloth over his forehead and watched as the other boy's face twisted in displeasure. After the initial shock of the sensation the coolness soothed his too-warm skin.

"Gee thanks mom." He said sarcastically to his redheaded companion.

"Jesus Christ man, no wonder you've been home all week. You'd catch the fucking school on fire with a fever like that."

"I'm actually better than I have been. I've stopped throwing up everything I stick in my face and my headache has died down to a dull throb. Now all that's left is the goddamn fever." He grumbled in annoyance. Kyle was relieved to hear that he was feeling better. He hoped he'd be fully recovered by Monday so he wouldn't have to sit through math and English alone. He missed bickering with the brunette although he'd never admit that.

"Good to hear…" He said quietly noticing the taller boy dozing off once more. He stood quietly and moved to the foot of the couch and sat on the floor in front of it using it to lean back on. He glanced over at Kenny who was still watching whatever the TV was playing. He moved his focus to the TV set and zoned off into thought. Although Stan wasn't really up for doing anything, Kenny was quiet, and the TV didn't offer any real entertainment he figured he would stay awhile and make sure Stan didn't catch on fire or something. He wanted him to wake up and feel better. [It made his inner pussy lonely to be without Stan.]

He didn't really notice his gaze shift from the television set to his now snoozing friend. He examined his pale skin and although it was paler than normal it still looked soft and the dim light from the television gave it the illusion of glowing. Even in a relaxed state he could see the tone of muscle in his arms, it was no wonder he was commonly a topic of interest amongst the female population of school. His silky, dark hair and soft yet masculine features were indeed attractive [… in a totally non-gay way! What the fuck? Attractive? Really now- did he just think his best friend was attractive?!]

His eyes widened in realization to the thoughts. Guys just don't think that about each other, girls might- but certainly not guys! [In all honesty he didn't really know what girls actually thought] He felt a bit of panic rise in his chest. He placed a hand on his own forehead to make sure he wasn't getting a fever too, although part of him hoped he was, his skin felt normal. [I'm not fucking gay, dude.] Not that he had any problems with homos, anyway.

He silently assessed himself as Kenny remained in a zombie-like state on the recliner. He just didn't see what was appealing about either cock or poon so how could he really assess his sexuality? He'd lay someone he liked but he'd never really liked anyone. [He liked Stan but not in the I-want-his-dick sort of way]

Kenny's phone went off just as the Jew was dozing off. He looked over at Kenny who was mumbling to someone over the phone. The incoherent conversation was brief and Kenny hung up within a minute.

"Fatass…" is all he mumbled as he jerked his thumb towards the door and turned to leave. Kyle could care less about Cartman and whatever he wanted so he just bid his blond friend farewell. He got up and watched out the window as Kenny walked off into the thickening darkness leisurely. [He wondered briefly if he was coming back tonight but decided that really depended on what Cartman was scheming up.]

A grumble turned his attention from the window to the couch. Stan's face was twisted in discomfort as he laid a muscled arm over his eyes. The redhead went and kneeled quietly by his side to remove the cloth on his forehead. [Though the cloth was still wet it wasn't nearly as cold.] He felt his forehead once more and this time, thankfully, his fever had gone down.

"Dude…"the dark haired boy grumbled quietly. Kyle leaned in to hear him better, "…I'm fucking hungry." The redhead smirked and stood back up.

"What can I get you, princess?" he asked before obtaining a glare from his brunette friend. As the Jew's smirk turned into a grin Stan punched him in the leg weakly before replying,

"Go cook me up some soup." He didn't care that he'd just been turned into Stan's bitch. Instead he was just happy to see him with an appetite and complied with his orders. He scoffed and went to the kitchen to prepare a simple dish of canned soup.

"Thanks, man." Stan stated as he finished off the soup and set his dirty dishes on the coffee table. Both boys were now seated comfortably on the couch with nothing but the dim light of the television to brighten the room. Stan looked over at his redheaded friend who just nodded him a 'no problem'.

"Go get me a soda now, would ya?" The brunette smirked as he bossed around the Jew.

"Dude, go fucking get it yourself."

"But, Kylllee! I'm so sick!" He flashed his best puppy eyes and gripped his stomach dramatically. [Kyle swore he saw him batting his lashes too]The redheaded Jew-boy rolled his eyes and complied. He even took the dirty dishes to the kitchen with him.

Kyle chucked the soda at the brunette who fumbled but caught it. The Jew silently flipped him off as he flopped back down on the couch next to him. Stan mockingly blew a kiss at him and put on a nice big shit-eating grin. The dark haired boy lounged back a bit while still leaving the redhead enough room. Kyle was staring at the television looking sort of empty. Like the lights were on but nobody was home.

"Hey Kyle," the redhead turned slowly to look at the brunette beckoning him. "Will you get the other blanket from the recliner for me?" Again he shot him the puppy eyes. He scoffed, rolled his eyes, and smirked simultaneously but he did as he was asked. [He really was starting to feel like his bitch.]

Stan gave him a school boy smile and mouthed a silent thank you as the blankets were thrown at his head.

"Need anything else, princess?" 'He's lucky I've missed his dumb ass.'

"Nope I'm good." Flop- Kyle was back on the end of the couch. "Don't look so disgruntled, you'll make a great wife someday." Stan teased.

"Suck my dick, man." Stan replied by licking his lips and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. [He very well might have had the redhead been serious, Stan was after all more or less a man whore. He's never been known to go after guys though.]

"Wassa'matter," Stan gave a mocking pout in regards to Kyle's distant stare. "You need a great big hug and kiss?"

"Dude, hell no- keep your germs to yourself." The redhead scooted away.

"Oh- you're worried about little ol' germs?" Stan sat up quickly and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. He pulled him back down on top of him wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug-like squeeze.

"Dude, what the fuck…" the Jew started to demand before being interrupted by Stan licking his cheek. [Yes, licking his cheek.] From his jawline to the corner of his eye was now tainted with germ infested saliva. He squirmed and wailed protests and profanities but to no avail. Stan laughed and pushed him back upright. Someone was certainly feeling better.

Kyle rubbed his sleeve angrily against his face and scowled. "Dude if I get sick I'm gonna disembowel you." He threatened but Stan just chuckled. 'That filthy dickhead'

"You loved it." The brunette's chuckling finally subsided to a cocky grin. What's worse is the fact that the redhead was now half hard. [The earlier thought was something that could be easily dismissed but this is just gay. Really, really gay.] The frantic movement and the heat of the brunette's skin just kind of got to him. 'Motherfucking teenage hormones' he thought and rolled his eyes at Stan. Even if he was gay it wouldn't or couldn't be for Stanley-fucking-Marsh. That would just fuck every God given rule in the universe. He sighed briefly and dismissed all gay and non-gay thoughts.

"So," Stan's voice broke him from his returning dead zombie-like stare. "You gonna stay and babysit me tonight? Wouldn't want me to die would you?" [Well it's not like he wanted to walk home alone.]

"Yeah I just gotta call my mom and let her know." He stretched before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his phone. He dialed, she answered, he told her, they bid farewells and hung up. "The deed is done." He stated simply in a quiet deadpan tone.

"Awesome, you can sleep in my bed tonight, dude. Since I've gone and infected the couch with the accursed germs you hate so much." He mocked his redheaded friend and smiled. Kyle just rolled his eyes and smirked. [He had missed Stan gay feelings or not.]

They sat in the dark living room flipping through channels and bickering. Kyle filled him in on the week's happenings and forewarned him of the make-up work he'd have to complete. By the time they had fully settled down the sky was pitch black and Kyle safely assumed Kenny wasn't going to be coming back that night. [Fatass probably got the poor blond mauled or some other incident relating in death] Stan was feeling noticeably better and that brought him a dose of relief. [He didn't have to worry about Stan dying any more or something.] He looked over to see what said Stanley was doing since he'd been so quiet; to nobody's surprise he was dozing off once more. [Being sick is super fucking tiring] That was his cue, it was officially time to get some well needed rest. He stood and turned off the television.

"Goodnight, Stan."

"Goodnight and thanks." He muttered groggily.

Kyle made his way through the darkness and into Stan's lair. He left the door open in case Stan started dying and crawled into the bed. He didn't even have time to reflect on his day because as soon as his head hit the pillow and he breathed in the familiar scent of his friend sleep dragged him under.

I was engulfed by a warm musky heat. I felt something or someone weighing down the bed. My eyes fluttered open and even by the dim light of the cloud-cloaked moon I could tell who it was. Above me, straddling me, peering down at me- was Stanley Marsh. I tried to speak and nothing came out. Not a whimper not a word. I let the confusion show on my face and silently mouthed 'what?' but in a split second I felt dry yet soft lips cover my own. The wet heat of his tongue filled my mouth that had fallen agape at the overall surprise and befuddlement the situation laid upon me.

I didn't really have time to fully process what was going on. Everything was hazy and happening too fast. His tongue dipped into my mouth and nudged at my own and although incredibly bewildered I responded. He tucked an arm under my head and propped me up to deepen the already too-intense-to-even-imagine kiss.

Oh sweet fucking Jesus, I was undoubtedly turned on. The hard bulge in my boxers confirmed this. Stan was also hard and pressing against my hip and thigh. Stan shifty hastily and began to grind his hard sex into my own. Oh fuck, the friction was unbearable. I felt a moan escape my mouth and into his but again- there was no sound. No sound. Completely and utterly silent. What?

Green eyes shot open and shifted around the room nervously. 'The fuck?' was the first thing his brain could come up with. He was overwhelmed with realization. He just had a gay dream… a gay dream about 'Stan'. He quickly placed a hand over his crotch to double check and sucked in a breath as his suspicions were confirmed.

"Oh fuck. Seriously?!" He said to nobody but himself. The room was still entirely dark and he looked over at the clock that read 2:27am. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and considered his options for taking care of the problem perked in his pants. He could try to silently go to the bathroom and rub off in there, he could try to ignore it and go back to sleep, or he could rub off in here. ['In here, in his bed?'] The thought itself was so wrong. So so wrong, but the thought of beating off in here surrounded by his scent…before he could mentally object he was rubbing his hardened member.[It was so fucking wrong in every sense of the word.] He mentally noted to be careful not to get anything on the blankets. That would just be too goddamn awkward to try to explain.

He pulled himself out of his boxers and sucked in a breath as the cool air caressed his heated member. He stroked steadily and closed his eyes as his dream played out in his head once more. He could understand that maybe yes he was feeling some sexual tension. But what baffled him the most was why was it directed at Stan. Never before had he beat off to the thoughts of being taken by the brunette. In fact most the time he just beat off to beat off. Did he really want his best friend like that? [Or was it really just out of control teenage hormones or worse- years of denial! Seriously, what the fuck?]

The confusion and panic mixed with the thoughts of 'his super best friend' fueled his sex drive. His pumping became more erratic and unsteady. He thrust lightly into his own hand and in a moment he spilled his warm seed over his hand and shorts. He sucked in a breath of air making it sound almost painful. He grabbed a fistful of tissues located on the nightstand and cleaned himself up before settling back down under the blankets.

His thoughts were restless and he couldn't fully figure out what was happening or what he should do. [It was all just too fucked up.] He sighed and decided it was something he needed to address in the morning when he had more sleep under his belt. He prayed silently that he didn't have any more dreams tonight and let his eyes slide shut.