Enter the Door Chapter 2: Party Time, a south park fanfic

Title: Enter the Door

Pairings: Stan/Kyle, some Craig/Tweek, Token/Bebe

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park or its characters.

Warnings: slash

Summary: Something strange is happening in South Park. Kids are disappearing only to return days later with no memory, no visible emotion or personality, and a strange need to build a monument for the coming of the so-called "Great Ones". When Kyle falls victim to this mysterious force, Stan will do anything to bring him back.

Chapter #2: Party Time

The week passed and five other kids were taken and then returned. Every time the kid returned with seemingly no emotion or personality and whenever they were questioned about where they had been they would always just answer, "In the dark. In the dark. The Great Ones shall triumph, " or some variation of that.

In fact they seemed to be talking about these "Great Ones" a great deal. Nobody could tell whom the kids were talking about but it was assumed that the title "Great Ones" was what the kidnappers had been forcing the kidnapped to call them, maybe as a sort of power-rush thing. Either way, the town was on red alert, everyone out looking for the kidnappers, wanting to catch them before they could take and destroy the minds of any more children.

But just because the streets had now been deemed dangerous that didn't mean that the teens of South Park High were going to miss out on any fun and Cartman's party continued as planned. With a huge grin, Cartman walked among his guests, greeting each one and making sure they were aware of the many snacks and drinks available. He wanted this party to be remembered.

"Hey. How's it going? Good?" Cartman asked some random person he didn't know but who had still come to the party. The person ignored him to keep on dancing with a rather slutty looking girl and Cartman nodded. "Good. You have fun now. Drinks are in the kitchen. Hey Tweek!" Cartman called, noticing the rather nervous looking boy over in the corner, and walked over to him. "You having fun?"

"GAH!" Tweek twitched sporadically. "Y – yes?" he replied, as if he wasn't quite sure if he was or not.

"Good. Good," Cartman said, pleased. "Then you just keep doing whatever it is you're doing. I'll be over there if you need me," he said, indicating the other side of the room.

Tweek twitched again. "Y – yeah. " Twitch. "O – o – okay. Whatever you say."

"Hey Token!" Cartman called, seeing the other boy just walk in the door with Bebe. He walked over there and squeezed between the couple. "Token. Token, ole buddy," he said, clapping a hand on Token's back. "And Bebe," he said, turning to the girl and putting a hand on her back as well. "How are you two this fine evening?"

"Uh . . . We're fine . . ." Token said, eyeing Cartman strangely.

"Thank you for inviting us," Bebe said politely though she obviously just wanted Cartman to stop touching her.

"Your welcome!" Cartman said. "Drinks are in the kitchen. Snacks are right over there. And if you want we can always clear the floor for some break-dancing later."

Token looked irritated. "I keep telling you. I don't know how to break-dance. And even if I did I wouldn't want to break-dance."

"Nonsense," Cartman said. "You're black. Of course you break-dance. Now if you'll excuse me. I think I see Jimmy." And Cartman left to go welcome Jimmy to the party.

Token sighed. "I keep telling him . . ."

Bebe patted him on the arm soothingly. "I know. I know."

"Jimmy!" Cartman cried, walking up to the crippled boy. "How are you?"

"I'm f – f – fi –" Jimmy tried to spit out the sentence and Cartman waited patiently. "I'm f – fi – fi – fine," he finally got out.

"Good to hear!" Cartman said and clapped Jimmy roughly on the back, almost sending the crippled boy to the ground. "Now drinks are in the kitchen and snacks are right over there. Help yourself!" And Cartman left to go bother someone else. This party was turning out to be just as killer as he'd imagined.

"This'll be much better than Cartman's stupid party," Kyle said, walking through the door to Stan's room with the bag of rented movies in his hands. "We can watch movies and get drunk off our assess without him around to ruin our fun."

"Exactly," Stan agreed, walking through the door behind Kyle and immediately heading for the old TV set he had set up in his room. Getting down on his knees, he pressed a few buttons and got the DVD player all set and ready to go. And with that all set up, he crawled over to the Kyle, who was seated on the foot of his bed, and stood up on his knees again to grab the plastic bag of movies off the bed. "What do you want to watch first?" he asked as he went through the bag.

"Idiocracy?" Kyle suggested.

"Nah. I wanna get drunk first," Stan said, still going through the movies. "Let's watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail," he said as he finally found the DVD he was looking for and held it up, looking to Kyle for his approval.

"Alright. Sure," Kyle said with a shrug. "I have the drinking game rules, right here." And he pulled the folded up piece of paper out of his back pocket to hold it up.

"Cool," Stan said, taking the Monty Python movie out of its case and going over to stick it in the DVD player. With that done, he crawled back over to sit at Kyle's feet. "Let me see that," he said, twisting around to reach up and grab the piece of paper from his friend's hands, wanting to check the rules. "What do we do?" he asked, bringing down the paper to look it over.

"It's easy. One drink every time somebody says "Lord," or "Knight" or "Sir,"" Kyle replied, getting comfy on the edge of the bed and grabbing a beer from the pile of alcohol they had made on Stan's bed. They had everything they could want. Regular beer, Light beer, tequila, vodka, even some rum.

"It says here you have to drink every time you see, read, or hear the name of an animal," Stan said, pointing at the second line with a small frown.

"Yeah," Kyle said, nodding in agreement as he popped open his beer. It did say that.

"Dude," Stan said, looking up at his friend, "Do you know how many times they say 'llama' before the movie even starts?"

Kyle frowned uncertainly and looked down at Stan. "They can't say it that much."

"They say it, like, 50 times," Stan corrected him.

"Well look at it this way," Kyle said with a smile, "At least we'll get drunk fast."

Stan looked back down at the rules and thought about that, eventually deciding Kyle was right. "Alright. Whatever," he said, throwing aside the rules and grabbing his own beer from his bed. They were ready to begin. Grabbing the DVD remote, he pressed play and sat back to enjoy.

The party had continued and was starting to grow wild. Bebe and Token were grinding in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, surrounded by at least twenty other grinding couples jammed into the living room. Beer had arrived and everybody was well on their way to being drunk, Clyde most likely first in line as he had shown up nearly an hour ago and set up base next to the keg, clearly determined to be the drunkest person at the party. Craig and Tweek were the worst though, at least in Cartman's eyes. Cartman wasn't sure if they were drunk or not, but they had taken over the couch and were making out feverishly, hands going everywhere, not caring that anybody could see.

"'Ey!" Cartman shouted at them. "Fags! Not on my couch! You'll get your sick fag-germs all over it!"

Craig flipped him off without even pausing in his make-out fest.

"Aye!" Cartman protested. Nobody flipped him off at his own party. He was about ready to go over there and pull the two fags off of each other when he heard Kenny's voice above the pounding bass of the stereo.

"Hey! Cartman!" Kenny shouted, "I'm going upstairs okay, man?!"

"What?" Cartman shouted back, looking around to try and find his friend. Finally he saw Kenny on the stairs, leading a drunken floozy up to the second floor by the hand. "Fuck!" Cartman said, waddling quickly over to the base of the stairs, pushing through grinding couples on the dance floor, to scream up to the second level of the house, "Bad Kenny! That's a bad, bad Kenny! Get back down here! Nobody's supposed to go up there!"

"We'll just be a while, okay?!" Kenny shouted back down and then the sound of a door slammed.

"Aye!" Cartman screamed and started climbing the stairs. Getting to the second floor and breathing heavily, he found that Kenny had gone into his mother's room. And Cartman knew what Kenny was planning to do in there. He began to pound on the door. "Kenny!" he screamed angrily.

"Dude!" Kenny called back, "Go away, man! I'm trying to score here!"

"Kenny!" Cartman screamed and continued to pound on the door. But Kenny didn't respond again and Cartman heard the sound of something crashing to the floor back down on the first floor. "Goddammit," he muttered to himself before leaving Kenny to enjoy himself. Getting back downstairs he saw that someone had knocked over the snacks table, leaving the floor covered in Cheesy Poofs, chips, and pretzels. "Goddammit!" he said again, this time with more feeling. "Who did that?!" he screamed at the crowd, but nobody was listening. A pretty girl he didn't know screamed randomly and began taking off her top to the appreciative cheers of the boys in the room.

"Hell yeah!" someone screamed in approval.

Over in the corner where things were quieter, Jimmy was talking to a girl with red hair that Cartman thought looked rather familiar. Next to them was that Anne Polk girl from the news, staring blankly into space.

"She just won't do anything!" the red head was saying tearfully, "It's like she's a robot! I thought going to this party would help her, but it's not working!"

More than halfway through the movie and Kyle was pretty drunk. Stan was well on his way too, but Kyle had definitely beaten him there.

"Stan! Stan!" Kyle shouted excitedly, long ago having gotten down from the bed to crawl closer to the TV. He jabbed a finger at the screen and the bunny pictured there delightedly. "It's the bunny! The bunny!"

"You're the bunny," Stan replied drunkenly and took a swing of his beer. That didn't really make much sense as an insult, but who the hell cared?

Kyle frowned at this reply. "No, you're the bunny," he said.

"No, I'm not," Stan said, offended, "You are!" he said, indicating Kyle with his beer hand and almost hitting himself in the face somehow.

"No I'm not!" Kyle protested indignantly, "I'm . . . Wait," Kyle stopped, looking confused. "What were we talkin' about again?"

"I . . ." Stan frowned and looked down into his drink as if the answer would be there. "I don't know."

"Well whatever it was, I'm not it," Kyle said and crawled back over to sit next to Stan, grabbing another beer on his way there from the pile Stan had amassed at his feet.

"Oh you so are," Stan replied, taking another swing from his drink only to realize that there was nothing left in it. Frowning, he peered into the bottle and then stuck out his tongue and shook the bottle, trying to get the very last few drops from it. When nothing came out he finally shrugged, threw the empty bottle in the pile to his left, and reached out to grab another beer from the pile of unopened beers in front of him.

"Am not," Kyle said, taking a swing from his new beer.

"Are too," Stan said, popping open his drink and trying to focus his bleary vision on the action on the TV screen. He giggled drunkenly as the bunny attacked and all of the knights went screaming.

Kyle sighed morosely. "I wish I had teeth like that."

"Like the bunny?" Stan asked, putting his hand to his mouth like he had fangs and turning to Kyle.

Kyle laughed at him. "Yeah. Can you imagine? If Cartman said any – anythin' bad about Jewish or gay people I could jus' . . . I could jus' bite him. Then we'll see how mean he is to me."

Stan shook his head. "Wouldn't work. This is Cartman. He has, like . . . like a built in cushion."

"No . . ." Kyle said, shaking his head, "No, it'll work. I'll jus' . . . I'll jus' do this." Kyle grabbed Stan to steady himself and leaned over drunkenly to chomp on Stan's shoulder through his t-shirt. Letting go, Kyle sat back and grinned, looking immensely pleased with himself. "Yeah, I'll jus' do that."

"Ow, dude," Stan whined belatedly, reaching up to rub the spot Kyle had bit. "That hurt."

"Baby," Kyle said, turning away to take another swing of his beer.

"No it really hurt," Stan said with a frown, "How'd you like it if I jus' went around an' bit you, huh?"

"I'd like to . . . see you try," Kyle said challengingly as he swayed drunkenly and took yet another swing of his drink.

Taking that as the challenge it was meant as, Stan reached out to grab Kyle and pull him closer only to have Kyle jerk out of the way at the last minute and Stan lose his balance, falling over on his face into the spot Kyle had just recently vacated.

"Hah!" Kyle said triumphantly, looking down at where Stan had fallen with a smirk.

Pulling his face out of the carpet, Stan glared at his friend and pushed himself up again. Then waited a moment to lull Kyle into a false sense of security before pouncing as Kyle raised his beer to his lips again to take a drink. The two boys fell to the floor and both of their drinks fell over to spill beer all over Stan's carpet as Kyle fought back and the two went rolling back and forth.

Both fighting to come out on top, they bumped into the bed then rolled over onto the pile of unopened beers, the bottles digging into their backs, and then rolled over those to end up at the base of the TV. Here they bumped hard into the crate that held the TV up, making the precariously placed TV shake and threaten to fall, but they didn't stop their fight and rolled away before the TV could fall over. Finally, tired, they ended up panting for breath with Stan on top of Kyle right back where they started.

"Hah!" Stan said breathlessly, pinning Kyle to the floor and reveling in his win.

"Alright . . . alright dude," Kyle said, equally breathlessly, "You win. Get off me."

"No," Stan said, smirking, "I win. I'm staying."

"Dude!" Kyle protested and wriggled on the floor, trying to throw Stan off, before finally collapsing back, too tired and drunk to keep moving. "Dude . . . gay . . ."

Stan laughed and said, "You're gay."

"Yeah . . ." Kyle said tiredly, giving up, "Yeah, I am."

The two boys just lay there for a while, panting for air. Stan, as the more athletic of the two, easily regained his breath and was left just lying there on his friend. He didn't really feel like moving actually. It was weird. He could feel Kyle's chest moving up and down below his own, could feel the body heat emanating from Kyle's body, and without even realizing it he found his hand moving up to trace the bones in Kyle's face. In his drunken state, the movement of his hand along Kyle's pale skin was almost mesmerizing and he watched as his fingers trailed along Kyle's cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, and down to his mouth, where Stan's eyes fastened on pale pink lips.

"Dude . . . ?" Kyle asked hesitantly, eyeing Stan uncertainly, "What are you doing?"

Stan's eyes didn't move away from his mouth as Kyle spoke, watching as pale pink lips formed the words. "Nothing," he replied as he moved his hand away.

"Then what . . ." Kyle trailed off as his eyes caught Stan's and Stan began to lower his head.

The party had only gotten worse. The dancers hadn't cared that there was now food on the dance floor and had ground the Cheesy Poofs, chips, and pretzels into the carpet with their feet. Somebody had also since then broken one of the lights in the room making the room now dim, shadows dancing along the walls as they few remaining dancers moved across the light to the beat. Many of the couples had taken this opportunity to make-out with their partner and five or six couples decorated the walls while Bebe and Token along with another couple had taken over Craig and Tweek's spot on the couch, all making out enthusiastically to the sound of the continued loud beat of the music. Cartman didn't know where Craig and Tweek had gone, but he hoped they had gone home to contaminate their own homes with their gay-germs.

Kenny still hadn't come down and Cartman headed up the stairs in the hopes of dragging him out of his mom's bedroom and sending him home. Kenny and whoever he had dragged in there with him should have been done, but as he got to the second floor Cartman still heard the sound of someone enjoying themselves loudly. Coming closer he was disgusted to find that the sound of moans and gasps was coming from the bathroom and not his mom's room. Somebody else must be in there.

"Oh goddamit," he muttered to himself irritably and then knocked on the bathroom door. "'Ey!" he shouted at whoever was in there. "The bathroom's for shitting, not fucking!"

"Fuck off!" Craig's voice shouted back at him and the sound of moans and gasps continued.

Oh fuck. Craig and Tweek were in there. Now his bathroom was being contaminated. He'd never get the gayness out.

"'Ey!" he shouted again, knocking harder. "Get out of there, you fucking pussies!"

"I said fuck off!" Craig shouted again. "This room's taken! Find your own!"

"I don't want a fucking room, you fucking asshole! I want you out of the goddamn bathroom!"

"Hey!" Kenny shouted, opening the next door and peeking his head out. "Will you be quiet? Some people are trying to sleep here!"

"Kenny!" Cartman screamed at him, "Don't you dare go back in there! Get your fucking poor ass out here right now!"

Kenny merely flipped him off and closed the door again. Cartman tried to open it, but Kenny had locked it from the inside. "I fucking hate you, Kenny," he muttered to himself as he let the doorknob go. There was an answering moan from the bathroom, louder than before, and Cartman had to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut, completely grossed out as he ran back down the stairs. He needed a beer.

Stan and Kyle's eyes locked on each other, Stan continued to lower his head. Inch by inch, slowly, slowly, until Kyle got this weird look on his face and covered his mouth with a hand.

Frantic, Kyle began pushing Stan off of him. "Get off! Get off!" he muffled behind his hand.

"What the fuck, dude?" Stan asked, rearing back but not getting off of his friend.

"Dude! Get off!" Kyle said, pushing harder, until finally he used his whole body and heaved Stan off of him with one hard shove. Scrambling to his feet, he raced out of Stan's room. Out in the hallway, Stan could hear the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut.

Still a little out of it, Stan blinked and watched him go. Then the last few moments caught up with him and, suddenly thinking a lot clearer, he put a hand over his mouth in shock and stared with wide eyes at his door. Had he just . . . ? He almost . . . Oh fuck.

This was not good.

The sound of loud puking reaching his ears (the bathroom was right next door) Stan felt some concern replace his shock and he stood up and headed out the door. Now in the hallway, Stan knocked hesitantly on the bathroom door. "Dude. You alright?"

There was the sound of more retching until finally the sound quieted and a shaky voice called back, "Yeah. I'm alright. But I think I'm a little drunk."

Stan laughed nervously, the scene on his bedroom floor not forgotten. "Yeah. I think I am too, man."

There was the sound of running water, the faucet turning on, and some splashes, then the door to the bathroom opened and Kyle smiled at him, looking tired, a little sick, and still drunk. "You still want to watch the other movies?"

Stan smiled waveringly and ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. "Nah. For some reason I'm not exactly in the movie mood anymore."

Leaning heavily against the doorframe, Kyle blinked tiredly. "Yeah. You wanna just go to sleep?"

Stan winced and quickly told his mind to shut up as it immediately translated that to 'Wanna go to sleep with me?' What was wrong with him? He must be a lot drunker than he thought he was. "Sure, man," he just said and turned to lead the way back to his bedroom. "You can have the bed."

"You sure?" Kyle asked, looking up at him as they walked back to Stan's room. "I mean, I can take the floor. No problem."

"Hey, I'm not the one who just puked up my guts," Stan said, trying to act normal and like he didn't want to run away in the completely opposite direction. "You take the bed."

Kyle smiled. "Thanks, dude."

Stan tried to return that smile and ended up just keeping his attention locked on the floor beneath him. "Yeah . . ." Pulling out some blankets as Kyle got settled in his bed, Stan made a makeshift bed on the floor.

"G'night," Kyle said before turning over on his side and closing his eyes.

Hand posed to turn off the light, Stan just stared at him for a long moment. Finally he sighed and shook his head, turning off the light and slipping between the blankets he had put on the floor. It took him a while to get to sleep that night.

At around 3 AM the party was finally dying down, almost all of the making out couples having gone home and the few remaining party-goers slowly trickling out the door. Kenny and that girl he had dragged into the bedroom with him had eventually come downstairs, but Craig and Tweek were taking their sweet ass time.

"Hey," Token said, coming up to him, "Thanks for inviting us, but we're just gonna leave now." By his side, Bebe nodded.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever," Cartman replied angrily, arms crossed over his chest in a pout. The party hadn't exactly gone as he'd imagined it. They had totally trashed the entire house. Not that he cared about the house being trashed, but nobody had respected his authority in doing it.

"Hey, man," Craig's voice called, "Nice party."

Cartman looked up from his pout to find Craig and Tweek walking out the door, Craig looking far too satisfied. Cartman scowled.

Yeah. That's great. Come to his house, eat his food, fuck in his bathroom, and leave. That's just wonderful.

TBC?