Disclaimer: Do not own them.

Title: Fantasies

Summary: Dear God. In a church.

Warnings: Yaoi Cussing PWP (Kinda)OOC

Couple: StanKyle

Written By: Shino

Inspired By: . . . . Sitting in church. :D

Comments: This bothers the HELL outa Rah.

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Altar

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"I don't think this is cool man." Kyle said in a soft voice, his head back. Currently, his eyes were trained on the object above them. "It just seems wrong."

Growling lightly, Stan bit Kyle's collarbone. "Concentrate man."

"Hey! That kinda hurt!" Hands going to Stan's head, Kyle pushed at it. "It's wrong man. My people killed that guy!"

Stan lifted his head and raised a brow at Kyle, "Doesn't Jesus live a few blocks away from you?"

"Yeah, but," Kyle's eyes stayed on the statue. "That one time, I killed him, ya know. And then, a long time ago." Kyle shook his head and looked up at Stan. "This isn't cool."

"You were all for it when we talked about it at the Pizza place." Stan reminded the other, a finger rising to point.

Kyle glared. "Yea, but I also thought you were talking about going back to your place and cuddling."

Stan just grinned.

"Don't comment on how faggy that sounded."

"Because the fact that you're half-naked under me doesn't seem faggy."

"Of course not."

"Right."

Kyle sighed, dropping his head back again. "And you're cool with this? I mean, this is your church."

"Totally cool with it, it'll give me something to think about when service seems long." Tilting his head, Stan playfully licked Kyle's chest. "Cummon. If you do this for me, tomorrow we'll snuggle on my couch all day, even though my parents will be there, kay dude?"

"But," Shutting himself up, Kyle turned his head to look back at Jesus on the cross. ". . . Fine, but hurry, this table thing is hard."

Stan smiled and leaned up, kissing the Jew. "It's called an altar my dear, this is where they turn wine into blood and wafers into bits of flesh." Stan stopped for a moment. "Hey, you're a Jew; you should know that shouldn't you?"

Kyle 'hmm'ed and didn't answer right away. "Well, it's been a while since I've gone to any services, my mother refuses to let me in ever since she found out in fourth grade."

"Oh, well, in any case, we're talking entirely too much. . . Let's fuck."

"You have no tact."

"I love you."

"Now you're just a loser."

". . ."

"Love you too, now hurry up, your couch is calling to me."

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Ooo, I lied, it wasn't descriptive, it had them arguing on the altar thingy.

3

Still, they snuggled the next day, what's better than that?

:D

Next Time: Hallway

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