HO-HO-HO-YES, here it is. The sexist piece of work I have ever typed. Mostly because I've never written Kyle in a maid's outfit, which is just a beautiful thing. (Btw, If you guys don't know who Hazel Burke is from the old tv show Hazel, you might not get the first joke.)
Kyle's P.O.V.
Everyone in the room seemed to draw in a deep, surprised breath at my appearance. And then they let it out in three ways:
The girls started giggling and talking to each other in excited voices, a few even let out little squeals.
Most of the guys started cracking jokes, ("Hey, Hazel, you wanna clean this spill up for me, babe?") and whistling.
Kenny was laughing.
I couldn't even bring myself to look at Stan for fear of what I might see and instead stalked over to Kenny and grabbed the collar of his hoodie, bringing him down to my level and glaring the shit out of him, trying my damned best to set him on fire.
Kenny swallowed his laughter long enough to choke out, "Well, looks like I was right."
I gritted my teeth. "About what?"
"About my theory of red-heads in maid outfits, sweet stuff."
I shook him as he started cracking up again and resisted the urge to punch him when I felt a tug on my arm and saw Adrianna grinning at me. "Come on, Kyle," she said, pulling me away from my victim, "they want you to dance."
I yanked my arm out of her grasp. "No. Fucking. Way. There is no, fucking, WAY that I'm going to dance in this slutty dress!"
"If you dance," Kenny added in slyly, "You can take the outfit off when the song ends."
"I'll dance with you," Adrianna offered.
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and lifted my arms to rub my fingers against my temples, then had to snap them back at my sides to stop the dress from going up too high. Whistles sounded behind me.
"Fine," I growled, snatching Adrianna's hand and pulling her onto the deserted dance floor. Might as well get it over with. I could feel Stan's gaze burning into my back from the crowd and tried to shake it off, which the DJ took as a sign to play I Like It by Enrique Iglesias.
Lights flashed as Adrianna started dancing with her hips, smiling at me and beckoning me to move.
Oh, God...
Stan's P.O.V.
I'm pretty sure there wasn't a drop of blood left in my head at this point. That dress was amazing. It hugged his body like a glove, that skirt floated around his pale, slender thighs...that choker resting just above his collarbone...big green eyes under a lacy head piece...sweet Jesus. And that blush. Icing on the cake, man.
I wanted him. Plain and simple. I admit it, okay? I admit it, I'm in l...in lo...lo...with my best friend. Dammit, if I couldn't think it, how could I prove it? I felt it, why the fuck can't I say it?
This was all Kyle's fault. All of it. His friggin' laugh, and his, his smile–oh God, that smile! His eyes, his voice, his skin, his touch, his hair, his...his Kyle-ness. He was smart, he was funny and moody and sweet and perfect.
Dammit.
And now he was walking away to dance with the Italian tramp while everyone stared at him. I felt something in me stir and growl as I watched him hesitantly start to move. I wanted to cover him up from everyone else, take him away, do something to keep my perfect red-head from their prying eyes.
I saw Adrianna gently grab his arm to pull him close to her and I felt myself come close to growling. She leaned in whispered against his ear and he froze. I watched closely as his ears turned red and he messed with the hem of his dress, embarrassed.
And he started to move. It wasn't all that graceful, or awesome, but it stayed with the beat as he and Adrianna stepped and jumped and rocked their hips. I wasn't aware that my mouth had fallen open until Kenny closed it with his hand, smirking at me.
I think he said something but didn't hear him as the music stopped and everyone cheered. Kyle ran off the dance floor and through the crowd to the guest room, slamming the door. The crowd dispersed, some going to get their phones, some more drinks. Adrianna waltzed over.
"You know," she said almost seductively, slinging an arm around my shoulder, "he's gonna need someone to undo the buttons and ties on the back of that dress. But, ow," she whined half-convincingly, putting her index finger to her lips. "My fingers are all cramped up. Anyone here want to help him out?"
I glared at her and opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I never was very good with come-backs...I shook off her arm and had to stop myself from running to the guest room.
Okay Stan, I thought to myself as I rested my hand on the handle. You're going to help a friend out of a costume, got it? Just don't touch him. Keep your cool.
I took a huge breath and opened the door, closing it softly behind me. To my left and into the room Kyle stood in front of a full body mirror. The hairpiece had been thrown to the ground right in front of me, followed by the heels and the stockings that made some kind of trail to the boy currently turned toward me, his neck twisted back to try and see his hands work the buttons and bows on the back of the dress and failing.
I could tell he was about to explode from the way every word coming out of his mouth was a curse of some kind. That's the thing about Kyle; the angrier he got, the more he cussed. It was like a temper gauge.
I walked into the soft golden light from the one lamp that was turned on and he sensed my presence, stopping his excessive cussing and abandoning his futile attempt to get the dress off himself.
My crotch was so hot and pulsing by this point it was painful. My hands itched to just rip that dress off him and tackle him onto the bed, sucking any part of him I could and touching him everywhere.
I let out a shaky breath and offered a pained smile. "Need some help?"
He looked at me suspiciously. Who wouldn't? I knew I looked ready to jizz my pants. I was so close already.
To my surprise he nodded and turned to face the mirror, showing me the back of the dress. He had managed to get a few snaps undone on his own, revealing little peeks here and there of pearly skin.
I tried to keep my breathing light as I stepped up behind him, lifting my hands to start. I had to remind myself he didn't want it like I did. He didn't fantasize like I did. He didn't feel about me like I felt about him. It hurt, but I didn't care. If I had to keep these words locked up from him to stay by him, I would. Because he didn't want it.
When I brought my hands down, my fingers rested on the first button and they easily snapped it open, along with the second, and my eyes widened as surprise sucker punched me.
Kyle was shivering. And it wasn't cold.
I snuck a look at his face; red as his hair.
I listened to his breathing; sounded like he'd been jogging.
My heart rate soared and I felt a strange sense of happiness wash into me. I leaned in and whispered, "You okay, Kyle?" as I very suddenly popped open the next two buttons. His breath hitched and his knees shook for a second.
"F-fine," he muttered, refusing to meet my eyes. He gasped as I pulled on the strings and made his back arch a little. Now he did look at me, his gorgeous jades wide and dark. I must've made record time getting the rest of those stupid buttons and strings off, staring at his face the whole time, feeling him quiver under my hands.
The back of the dress was now open down the middle, showing his entire back from neck to the base of his spine. I licked my lips and brought them to his neck that tasted slightly salty and kissed his fiery skin, yanking the dress open wider and running my palms over his spine and sides.
Kyle panted and made small noises in the back of his throat that made me growl in the back of mine. I traced my kisses lower, hands roaming everywhere like I had so wanted to do for days. How had I ever lived without kissing his sweet skin?
"Nnmm..." Kyle moaned into his arm as I slipped my right hand into the dress hanging loosely off him and splayed my fingers on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. I traced my tongue up every bump and beautiful curve of his back before lightly nibbling on his ear, finding some kind of pleasure in watching his blushing face. His mouth was parted and his eyes would squeeze just one moment and crack open the next.
Suddenly what I was doing slapped me in the face and I stood up, freezing in my actions. Kyle raised his head and blinked hazily at my reflection.
"Tell me to stop," I rasped out. He gave me a confused look. I swallowed. "Tell me to fuck off. Say you don't want it. Tell me the truth."
When he didn't answer I slid my hands out of the mess of a dress and stepped back from him. He struggled to find his balance on shaky legs and turned to face me.
"The truth..?" He parroted, biting his lip. One of his shoulders was exposed by the sagging sleeve. "I...I don't..."
"Shit," I muttered quietly, covering my eyes with my hand. Here come the damn tears. Why am I so freaking emotional? "Kyle, I don't want to force you into...into anything you don't want. Just...I'm sorry, okay? Sorry..."
I backed up and sat on the bed. After a moment of silence I heard him speak.
"Stan..." I heard the fabric rustle as he moved. "Stan, look at me."
I slowly look up at him and almost died. The dress lay at his feet in a puddle of silk. His green boxers were the only things hiding his glorious body anymore.
It felt like a dream when he placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back onto the comforter, hovering above me on hands and knees. He lowered his head to place a single, sweet kiss on my lips that was so tender I felt like crying.
"I'm not sure what the truth is," he admitted sheepishly. "Whether I just want your body," I came close to blacking out, "or am just confused or...or if I...if I'm in love with you."
Oh, this has got to be a dream. No way is life this perfect.
But here I was, awake, alive, looking into a pair of green eyes that had always haunted my fantasies. I smiled and rolled us over to where I was above him and kissed his lips. I pulled away and kissed his forehead, holding his face in my hands.
"Kyle."
"Stan."
I rested my forehead on his as he flashed a smile that outdid the sun.
"I love you."
HAH! Got you! Thought they'd go all the way? A little dry-humping or a bj? Nope!
Know why? Cuz I want more reviews. That's right. I want at least 55 reviews or there will be no final chapter. Get it? Good.
55 reviews or no sexy last chapter.
