Stand By Me

Disclaimer: Maybe a COUPLE of the song lyrics are mine. Fingerbang, and South Park in General, is not.

Summary: 8 years ago, the boy-band Fingerbang became a national sensation. Now, on tour, lovers Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski have to deal with screaming fans, stupid Fatasses, and Kyle's Back, which is by far the greater evil.

Author's Notes: Any time Kyle says something in this story, it is almost certain that it was written by Flabz. She and I put about four days into getting all the dialogue for this via MSN, and persisted in nagging me to turn it into the story it deserves. Also…this story was inspired by: . It's really what set it all off.

-.-

"Ba-by, I'm gonna thrill ya – ALL – NIGHT – LONG!" And with that, Fingerbang closes out its set at Pershing Center in Lincoln, Nebraska…the last stop on this leg of our new tour to promote our sixth album: What You Do To Me. It's been going on for a month now, a new city every other day, and I'm starting to feel the strain. Lately, the only thing that's been keeping me going is walking off stage just ahead of me. As soon as he's safely off, I sprint to catch up, pinning him to some of the set and giving him a needy kiss.

"I want to rape you now," I tell Kyle, with a smile on my face.

"And?" he asks in reply, kissing me back.

"Mm…I dunno…but I don't think I can wait for the hotel!" I shower him with kisses, which breaks up his reply into more manageable segments.

"Oh, fuck, Stan…me neither, but…mmm…what about the people with backstage passes?"

"Fuck 'em. Let's send 'em to Fatass for a while, make him think he's important, boost his ego."

"Dude. Fatass doesn't need ego boosting. Nowhere nearly as much as I need you…"

"I feel that, Ky…mmm…" I say, moving down to his neck and giving him another reason to wear the collar on his white jacket up around it, when we hear a squeal from behind us that can mean only one thing…fangirls.

"Oh. My. GAWD!" says the one that appears to be in charge. "Look! They're practically having sex RIGHT BEFORE OUR EYES! It's sooooooooo much hotter than what Kenny described in Cosmo, too!! Girls, we must follow them, and watch!"

"Erm...do we get a say in this?" Kyle asks, waving a finger back and forth between us to indicate who exactly he refers to when he says "we."

"The people who are practically having sex on stage want a say on whether or not we get to see them do it in private?" the leader asks incredulously. "Hmm...NO!!"

"Damn," I say. "They got us there, Ky."

"We have you forever, get used to it!" Somewhere inside that girl is maniacal laughter, just waiting to burst forth.

"No, WE have EACH OTHER forever! Get used to it! We're only each other's!!" Kyle says, wrapping his arms around me to emphasize his point. And a damn good point it is. We may be rich and famous pop stars, but my love still has his brain, and knows how to use it.

A collective "Awwwwwwwww" is the response to his statement, interspersed with exclamations of "That's so sweet!!" A distraction is in order to facilitate our escape from these bitches…

"Kyle..." I say, tilting his chin up to look at me.

"Stan..." he replies, misty-eyed.

What follows is a rather intense bout of making out that leaves the fangirls speechless, but no less closer to being out-of-our-way than before. We shall have to perhaps actually do it in front of them to effectively clear them…and nothing works better than Kyle being the dominant for that task. Communicating my plan through Eyebrow Waggling Code, Kyle and I strip off our clothes, and I allow myself to be pushed against the set and entered by Kyle.

The look on the faces of the fangirls goes beyond speechless. I don't think I've ever seen Kenny this excited about porn. I mean…these girls get to see something that's not exactly a spectator sport, especially not with us.

"It's working, they're about to pass out from the joygasm," I whisper without moving my lips much, before changing pitch and screaming, "OH KYLE FUCK YEAH!!!"

"Yay! Limo's out back," he whispers back, before shouting "OH MY GOD, STAN!!"

We continue to sex each other up…or shall I say, I continue to allow Kyle to sex me up. The fangirls have a look on their faces of rapt attention, and there's a look that something's about to blow. They're holding back what must be mind-blowing orgasms from watching us, just so they can continue to watch us. I don't think I will ever understand the phenomenon that is the fangirl.

"Oh! Oh oh oh oh! KYYYYYYYYYYYLE!! More!!" I exclaim, as he hits his stride…and my prostate.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck STAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!" is his response, as his breathing starts to get ragged. That's one of his little tells…he's close.

We continue our little semi-private peep show, both to the pleasure of ourselves and the sensory overload of the fangirls who seem very much on the verge of passing out from the intensity of our sex. I mean, face it…gay sex hasn't been this hot since Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal, and to the best of my knowledge, they never ACTUALLY did it.

"Oh! God!! You! Are! So! Fucking! Great! At! The! Sex!! FUUUUUUUUUCK!" I exclaim, as one of Kyle's hands slides down to give attention to my own need.

"You're my hot! lithe! Great! Sexy! Boi!! LOVEYOUUUUUUUU!!!" he replies, pumping his hand up and down. The fangirls are incredulous. A couple are unconsciously fanning themselves, and tugging at their collars in an attempt to alleviate some of the body heat building up from their staring. Serves the bitches right. Kyle, to his credit, appears to be concentrating solely on himself and me, allowing me to monitor the greater situation, and to let him in when we're safe.

However, as he continues, he starts shuddering. His orgasm is coming close, and if the subconscious muscle contractions are any indication, so are mine. They'd better drop soon, or else we might have discovered an insidious new, sex-resistant, breed of fangirl. Thankfully, these worries are unfounded and purged from my head almost immediately after, because the fangirls, almost in unison, let out a large moan of their own and collapse to the floor, fainting. I communicate this to Kyle first with a nod, encouraging him to speed up so we can go, and he does. Within thirty seconds of the collapse, I scream "KYLE!!" and orgasm, spooging all over Kyle's stomach, and he screams "STAN!!" and spooges deep within me. We hurriedly collect as much of our clothing and dress, sliding on boxers, pants, and are about to put on our colored tees when the first fangirl begins to stir. Quickly throwing the shirts aside, we throw on our jackets and run for the limo.

From somewhere behind us, I hear a fangirl, the leader, shrilly screeching "DON'T THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE THAT EASY!!" as we jump into the limo, slamming the door shut behind us and startling our driver.

"Drive, Jacques, DRIVE!!!" the both of us scream, as Kyle reaches for the napkins in the minibar to clean my spooge off his stomach so it doesn't get all over his jacket. Behind us, if the shrill shrieks of rage are any indication, the fangirls are throwing a fit.

I can hear the leader screaming that "Some of you must sacrifice yourselves to ensure they cannot escape us! CHASE!!!" But then Jacques finally gets the limo in gear and peels out of the parking lot, heading for I don't even know where. Probably Starbucks. At any rate, it doesn't matter to me, as I busy myself with trying to kiss Kyle again.

Kyle, on the other hand, is looking out the back window, and pulls away from my kissing attack. "Ahh... Dude... Look!" he says, pointing out the back window.

I look, and am decidedly not thrilled. "Oh," I say lamely. "Shit...JACQUES!!!" I scream, attracting the driver's attention through the privacy screen and getting him to pick up the intra-compartment phone.

"Sirs?" he asks, when we pick up ours as well.

"FASTER!!" Kyle and I scream into it, hanging up.

"I wish you were yelling that for a different reason!" I exclaim, giving Kyle a predatory once-over.

"Once we escape from the damn fangirls, I will!" he promises.

"God damn those fans! Why can't they just leave us alone?" I rant. "I mean... I wanna hear you scream my name," I say, pouting.

"See why I told Fatass this was a bad idea?" he asks.

I nod. "Uhhh… why did we go along with him in the first place?"

"Money for a hot tub and a waterbed," he replies.

"Oh yeah..."

"To fulfill that dream of yours," he says.

"Yours too!" I remind him. "But hey... we DO have it now. This concert was the last one we needed!" At least, that's what our accountant had told me when we'd consulted him last regarding our money and taxes and stuff, and after we'd signed the new contract.

This idea is evidently a good thought to Kyle. "Thank God," he says. "But hey, you're cute singing, d'ya know that?"

"And this outfit IS kinda neat..." I muse. Not that I like doing all this stupid shit, I don't…I actually sort of miss South Park and the rest of the kids we grew up with, and will be graduating soon, without us. No, we have tutors and online classes for that…they say it counts towards SPHS credit, and that we can go receive our diplomas for that, but I think they're lying to us…

"Hehe, white suits us pretty well," Kyle says, playing with the buckles on his jacket.

"Even if we're nowhere CLOSE to pure," I say. At least…I'm pretty sure that's what that color signifies. I could be wrong, but I doubt it.

"Which explains the blue and green under-shirts," he points out. Oh right…the blue and green undershirts. That are now strewn about backstage somewhere. Or, more likely, have been stuffed in some Queen Fangirl's purse for either inclusion in her Stan/Kyle shrine or auction on eBay. I dunno…I think we'd be even hotter if we just performed open-jacketed…

"Which just make us TOTALLY hotter," I reply, because they DO bring out our eye colors. "Like, five times hotter than normal...and I wouldn't've thought that possible for you!" Hehe…brownie points for me!!

"I can think of one thing hotter," he replies with a sly grin.

"Oh yeah...famous sex is TOTALLY better," I say. "Why do it in a lousy motel room when you can do it in a Hotel Suite?"

"Huge bed, soft mattress, dim lights, candles, music... What can get any better?" he says, snuggling up to me, and seemingly off in a daze.

"A moonlit night and a Kyle to make love to during it," I answer.

"Oh yes," he says, "that does sound nice…"

"Jacques!" I call, and he rolls down the privacy screen.

"Sir?" our driver of the past five years answers. He's a rather cool guy for one with a French name. Better than the pervy Irishman we had to fire for getting Kenny drunk and sending him to spy on us, back when we were first discovering our feelings.

"Back to the hotel!" I announce. He appears to have been nearing the exit anyway, but it can't hurt to make it official.

"What about those crazy fangirls?" Kyle asks.

"We'll use the service entrance!" I reply, and Jacques nods and puts the screen back up.

"Ahhh the joys of being rich, it's worth getting on stage, singing a bunch of half assed songs, enduring ear blowing screams, just for this..." Kyle says.

I hug Kyle closely, and reply "You know it, my love..." as we exit the Interstate to stop at a red light…I guess, I can't see anything out the windows.

Kyle wraps his arms around me. "Stupid traffic. Hurry up..." he murmurs impatiently.

"We'll be there in no time, Kyle," I reassure him. "Don't worry..."

"People should move outta the damn way when they see a god damn limo..." he says, nuzzling my neck, as we get moving again. Less than five minutes later, the limo pulls up at back door of the hotel.

"We're here!" I announce happily. "Do you need me to carry you or are you alright?"

"Mmmm, whatever you want," Kyle replies tiredly as Jacques opens the door.

"Carrying you it is then! Then I can just lay you out on the bed and sit down to the Kyle Buffet!" I say.

"Hehe, all you can eat," he returns.

"I can eat quite a bit, when I'm in the mood for Kyle," I say, waggling my eyebrows.

"It's unlimited for you."

"Damn right it is!" I reply.

"Heh," he says, "in fact, it's all only for you."

"Damn right it is!!" I say, as we reach the elevator.

To the elevator attendant, I say "Top floor, please!"

"Never get tired of hearing that," Kyle says into my neck.

"Five minutes, you can hear it all you want," I reply.

"Hear what? 'Top floor please?' Oh God, I'm worried those crazy fans will be here. I mean ... They aren't ... Human." Kyle says, saying what almost all famous people probably think about their fangirls. They're not, really…

"Oh, that?" I answer. "I thought you were talking about me saying 'Damn right it is.' There won't be any fangirls on our floor, it's restricted to us and our people, remember?"

"Yeah, you're right. Still ... they always manage to get back stage," he says.

"It's the damn radio stations givin' out backstage passes. And Cartman lettin' them cuz he thinks HE'S got the fangirls. Idiot..."

"Yeah, the fact they come flocking to us, and always kill Kenny in the process, doesn't that tell him something? Stupid bloody fat ass ... son of a fuckin bitch, damn fucker," Kyle says, rambling and continuing to curse Cartman in what I believe to be three separate languages, all the way up to the top floor.

The elevator dings, and I carry Kyle off. Our floor only has a few rooms on it, so there's not that much of a walk from the elevator to our suite.

"Kyle?" I ask.

"What?" he replies.

I kiss him. "Shut up."

"But ... rambling, it's what I do best Stan..."

"No," I say with another kiss, while going through my pockets for the room key, "what you do best is ME!"

"Oh yeah, good point," he says as I open the door and swing it open. "OK... One thing about suites I hate..."

"What's that, Ky?" I ask, walking inside.

"Suites are too damn big. There's too much space between the front door, and the bedroom." Oh yeah. Jesus, the door to the bedroom's WAY over there…are we in the Goddamn Presidential Suite? Shit…

"Well," I say, running my bare feet through the carpet, "the carpeting's lush enough, if you think your back can handle it for one night?" Kyle's back has been unusually sensitive lately…it's been a real bother, preventing us from getting the most out of our suites. But in one as lavish as this…Jesus Damn if we don't, we're the stupidest men alive.

"Hmmm…" he says, pondering the offer. "OK!"

"Yay! And we don't have to do much but get off coats and trousers..." Actually, we don't really have ANYTHING to get off but coats and trousers."

"Practically nothing to 'em as there is," he says. It's not quite the truth, but it's a good sentiment. "Which is perfect for moments like this."

"Damn right!!" I say with a kiss, removing Kyle's jacket and laying him down on the lush carpeting.

"Hey..." Kyle exclaims, "This is nice carpet!"

"See?" I ask. "Won't hurt you for one night."

"Hmm, it better not!" he says. "Don't think we'll uhhh ... Make a mess or anything, do ya?"

"The record company has renter's insurance on it. I plan to make all the mess we can tonight!" I say, going for Kyle's pants, sliding both them and his boxers off, leaving him naked on the soft carpet.

"Oh..." he says. "I didn't know that. Hehe, we'll leave an indent on the carpet I bet!"

"Goddamn right!" I insist with another kiss. Kyle seems a bit insistent this time. A quick glance downward shows me the reason why. Kyle is "excited."

"Oh, are you ready for me already, love?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, you know I am- Ouch..." he says with a wince.

"Ouch, Kyle?"

"Yes 'ouch'. Just a bit of pain in the lower back ... stupid floor. But, so far to bed..." he says, trailing off with a sigh, "can't win..."

"OK, that does it, tomorrow morning, we're taking you to a chiropractor!" I say. "Fine then ... to bed. It makes no difference to me, as long as you're not in pain."

"Awwww no, too far!" he insists, pulling me on top of him again. "Staaaaaaan!"

"Kyle, Bed!!" I insist. "I don't want to break you!!" I scoop him up, naked, and make for the bedroom door.

"God damn it," he mutters, "there's a couch over there, it's closer ..."

"Couchbed?" I ask. "It won't be as comfy...you sure?"

"Well, let's try," he says. "Like I said, it's closer."

"I really don't mind...and I'd have to put you down to pull out the bed."

"Oh God... I don't win either way!" he despairs. "OK never mind, to the bedroom! It's further away, but at least you don't leave me at any point."

"Better for you anyway," I say. "See, I can't leave you, cuz without me you lose all your common sense."

"Hehe, oh you know it. I go crazy without you, and not the nice crazy that's about to happen."

I chuckle. "We're two WILD and CRAAAZY guys!! Rawr!!" I say, making a fake clawing motion with my left hand.

"Hahaha... But before all that... ARE WE IN THE FUCKING BEDROOM YET?" he shouts.

"Yes, we're in the fucking Bedroom yet! It's just ten more steps to the bed."

"OH GODDAMN IT!! 10 STEPS? FLOOR! FLOOR NOW!!" Holy SHIT is he impatient. But the floor isn't good for his back. I don't know what difference the bed will make, but maybe he'll at least be able to tolerate it.

"No!" I insist. "I will throw you on this bed and jump in after you if you keep this up, Ky..."

"TOO FAR, FLOOR IS CLOSER DAMN IT!!" Kyle, Goddamnit, GIVE me a minute!!

"OK, THAT DOES IT! You are getting ravished on that bed and that's FINAL!"

"REALLY?" he yells. "IT SEEMS TO BE TAKING A WHILE TO GET THERE!! F-L-O-O-R!!"

I sigh, and swing Kyle onto the bed. While he bounces from the impact, I shed my own jacket and trousers and leap to pin him once he settles into the bed.

"THERE!" I say. "You're on the effin bed now! Prepare for ravishing!"

"GOD, IT TOOK YOU LONG E-FUCKING-NOUGH!! I BET YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE DIDN'T YOU ASSHOLE?" he shouts.

"What'd I tell you about shutting up, huh?" I ask, roughly. "Jesus, do I have to do everything around here?" I continue in the rough tone, punctuating it with a rough kiss.

"Want me to 'shut up' huh?" Kyle asks.

"Shut up and let me ravish you, yep yep," I reply.

"Fine... I'll 'shut up.'" His devious tone suggests he's going to do something I'm probably not gonna like.

"Well, you can still scream my name and stuff, just...no rambling! This isn't the time!" I insist. It's not! Sex is time for putting out and shutting up.

"But ...You told me to 'shut up.'" He sounds quizzical, and innocent. I hate it when he pulls this act…we are SO not innocent.

"SEX is not a time for TALKING, Kyle!!!" I say, frustrated, pressing against Kyle, so he can see what I would much rather be doing.

"Ahhhh… fine, fine, just do it," he says, sounding a little resigned to the fact that my hormones are gonna wreak havoc on his ass.

"One Kyle-ravishing 'Come'ing right up!!" I say, adjusting my position to press INTO Kyle.

"Mmmm Stan...niiiiiice...This bed is so nice!!" he exclaims, running his hands through the sheets and blankets. I continue to sex Kyle up, but he doesn't even appear to be noticing. Goddamn him…he's not THAT loose, and I'm not THAT small…he knows I'm inside him, he's just fucking with me.

"VERY nicccccccce...So soft!" See? See what I have to deal with?

"...Ky?" I ask, playing my part even while continuing the sex, "Anything you're feeling besides the bed?"

"Oh godddd yesssss... I can't ignore the soft blanket... so niccccccce!" Goddamn him.

'Hmm,' I think, 'maybe the couchbed would've been a good idea after all.'

I increase my pace, and go deep enough to hit his prostate. I KNOW his body well enough to know that that's his prostate…I wonder if that'll do the trick.

"How about now?" I ask.

"HOLY SHIT STANNN!!" he exclaims, "THIS PILLOW IS SO FUCKIN SOFT!" He's got this look in his eye…like he's surveyin' me.

'OK, he's gotta be messin' with me...but the soft pillow sounds good... NO! After!!' I think, refocusing on my task of sexing up my boyfriend.

"KYLE!!!" I exclaim, trying to regain his attention.

"OH GOD STAN... MY BACK FEELS SO GOOD THIS BEDDDDD IS HEAVEN MMMMMMM GODDDDDDDDDD!!" Well, just goes to show the lengths Ky will go to pay me back for something.

"Oh Fuck! Oh...Kyle...!!!" I have to slow down. If I keep up this pace, I'm gonna blow, and I want Kyle paying attention for that.

Surprisingly, he pulls me closer. "Come on Stan, show me the best part of this bed, love." Ok! Apparently he's noticed and decided enough Stan-torture is enough Stan-torture.

'About fuckin time!!' I think, resuming my slow thrusting. "The best part of this bed is the fact that we're both in it together, joined together as only we can be..." I say, as each thrust is aimed to hit his prostate and drive him wild.

"Mmmmmm damn right!" he replies. "Only the two of us! As it always will be, bed, couch, floor, bathroom, kitchen, ANY-FUCKING-WHERE!!"

"Yessssssssssssss...Kyle!!! I'm...gonna...oh, SHIT!" I moan, because he only JUST NOW started paying attention, and it's not gonna last long at all…

"Oh God Stan..." he moans, squirming beneath me.

"Mmm...Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkk!!!" I exclaim, shooting off inside him. "Ky...le...I...lo-ve...you!!"

Kyle's breathing is ragged once again. "Fuck... Love you too Stan... SO fucking much!" he exclaims.

"Mmm...God. You want a crack at me? I wanna experience the soft bed!"

"Heh, of course love, I'd love- Ouchhhh... God fucking damn it... What the fuck is wrong with my back? God, it couldn't wait 5 minutes could it?" GOD DAMN IT!! I want Kyle on top of me…so I can tease HIM with the damn soft bed…

"Aww...well, I guess I could ride you...but you'd better be ready to go off pretty quick! I want to sleeeeep...tonight's been pretty damn active!!"

"Stan, it's YOU!" he announces. I'm confused.

"...Yeah, it's me...what?" I ask, looking at him funny.

"I can never hold out long with you." A shy grin and a blush accompany this, as if its something to be embarrassed about.

"Oh, perfect!!"

"Hehe, indeed..." Kyle chuckles, his blush deepening.

"Well then! And Little Kyle's even all ready for me..."

With that, I slink up Kyle's body and slowly allow myself to be penetrated by Kyle for the second time that night. God, it's weird from this angle. I dunno HOW the pornstars do it.

"Fuck...this seems so much easier when YOU do it..." I say.

"MMmmmm... It's a new challenge for you Stan," he says encouragingly, as my mind searches for something to compare this to.

"Hmm...it's like Squats...I just bounce?" I ask, receiving a nod from Kyle. "Yeah? Up and down and up and down and...hey, this ISN'T that bad!!" Now that I'm moving, it's just like lying down, only rotated ninety degrees. It feels just like normal…Kyle inside me, hitting all my sensitive spots…yep. JUST like normal.

"Oh God, you can say that again. Guess my sore back has finally come through... God, last time I do you on a hard set." Hehe…I didn't really see him complaining at the time, but it sorta WAS outta necessity. How the hell else were we to escape from those psychotic fangirls without killing them?

"Oh yeah...first thing tomorrow, we're checking out of here, takin' the bed with us, and THEN we're taking you to a back doctor...I want you all mmm...better!" I say, continuing to bounce up and down on him.

"MMmmmm yes to the first, yes to the second, NO to the third! No doctors...MMmmmmmm…" Goddamnit, Kyle, don't be stubborn about this! It's for your own good this time! No way can a backache be indicative of a serious medical problem that's gonna kill you.

"Not going to the doctor results in a life of uke-dom for you, Ky!" I tease, leaning forward and changing the angle of entry, causing Kyle to hit a PARTICULARLY pleasurable spot. "OH, damn!!!"

"Oh...Oh God damn it...No...wait...YESS!" Hahaha…always give Kyle risky propositions during sex. He'll never be able to say no for long.

"Mmm...knew you'd - OH - see it my way!! mmm..." I moan, continuing to change my positioning frequently to further stimulate my boyfriend.

"No...doctors...mmmmmmmmm," he replies.

"Kyyyle! You know you want to - OH- mmm...do me actively, have me squirming beneath you..." I'd let him do me as often as he wanted, if he'd only go see the doctor to fix his back.

"Mmmm God Yes, I do... Awww but...I don't wanna go doctors -OHHH-!" Bingo. There's his problem…he's never really known any doctors outside the bottom-of-the-class imbeciles at Hell's Pass.

"We'll go to one of the best in the country, Ky! Spare no...mmmm... expense! I want you at your best again!!" Because without Kyle at his best, WE'RE not at OUR best. Besides…there's something to be said for traditional love-making. This riding stuff…it's enjoyable, but I'd rather ACTUALLY be on bottom if I'm going to be taking him up my ass…

"Mmmm- no, no, no, no, no, no, no...STAN..."

"YES! Kyle!!! Oh, God..." How can he continue to say no to something we BOTH know he needs right now? Sex is a cure-all for a lot of things, but back pain ISN'T one of them.

"MMMmmm NO...no, no... YES... no to doc...YES TO...MMMMMMMM GOD STAN!!" he shouts, bucking and shooting off inside me, as I continue to ride him to milk him for all he's worth.

"Shit! Kyle...!!! Oh fuck yeah...Kyle...why no to the doctor?" I ask as his orgasm subsides, and I can lie on top of him. "Don't you want to be able to do me with out having to worry about any pain?"

"...no doctor Stan... hate doctors... I mean… no, no, no...Stan..."

"Not even for me?" I ask, using the puppy dog eyes. "I want my Kyle at his best..."

"...Don't look at me like that..." he says. "Oh Stan...awwwwwwwwwwww..."

"Kyyyyyyyyle...I PROMISE it won't hurt."

"It will! It will hurt!" he insists, teary-eyed.

"But just once! And then, never ever again! We'll take you to Johns Hopkins, they have the best everything! And he'll tell you what's wrong, what needs fixing, how to fix it, and then you'll be PERFECT! My perfect little Kyle..." I say, stroking his cheek.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh... God damn it...f-...fine..." he says, still unsure about the entire arrangement. Once he gets to see a GOOD doctor for once, maybe these insane fears of his will clear up.

"But first...let's sleep in this wonderful bed that I'll move Heaven and Earth to get sent home!" I say, rolling off him to my side of the bed, snuggling into the pillow and pulling the covers up around us.

"Well you better be careful not to end up with my back," he says. "God, I don't get it. Why is it so sore?" he asks, confused.

"I dunno, Ky...I wish I did, I can't wait until I do, but I don't," I reply, honestly and candidly.

"Well... I can complain more in the mornin', and you can shut me up again in the morning," he says with a sly grin.

"That I can. That I can..." I say.

"Good, good," he says, and tries to roll over, which apparently sends another twinge of pain through his back. "Ouch... god damn it..."

I pull Kyle in tight, holding him firmly against my chest. "Stay there and don't move," I say.

"Oww... fine, fine, won't move…"

"And why would you want to anyway?"

"Yeah good point... it kills to move..." Not exactly what I was going for, but…

"Poor Kyle..." I say, stroking his hair.

"Mmmmm..." he says, giving me a sad look. "It hurts."

"I'm sorry love...I wish I could help...but tomorrow, we're flying to Baltimore!!" I announce happily. Kyle frowns at this proposition.

"Oh damn plane seats… they're a killer..." he whines.

"Private Jet, Ky," I remind him. "Y'know, the one we had a bed put in?"

"Oh yeah!" he says, brightening. "No fat ass ... Just us."

"And the pilots, but they're in their own little room," I remind him with a yawn. "Just us...God I'm tired love..."

"Awww then go to sleep love," he says, with something of an envious tone.

"You too!! Don't let your back keep you up all night again...remember, we're gonna fix it tomorrow!" I say, settling into my pillow but not letting my grip on Kyle diminish one bit.

"One night left of no sleep... Finally!" he murmurs, barely audible.

"Good night, my darling..." I trail off, shutting my eyes and drifting off.

Kyle's POV

"Night Stan," I say, watching him close his eyes and drift off, relaxing in a way I haven't been able to since two months ago. God, I'm so tired. I wanna sleep, but I can't. There's just too much pain. With a sigh, I curl into him and start staring at the wall, just as I will for the next eight hours waiting for him to wake up.

God DAMN this fucking back of mine…