Their fun and games ended quickly one afternoon when Randy Marsh casually climbed up into his son's old treehouse, finding the two boys in question in a rather compromising, half-naked position.
"...Hi boys," Randy said, staring oddly at his son and his friend.
"...Uh...Hi dad," Stan said back. He made as little eye contact as possible.
"Th-This isn't what it looks like!" Kyle nervously assured the older man. Considering Kyle was still laying underneath of Stan's body when he made the statement, it was pretty hard to believe. Even for Randy Mrarsh. The boys' hands quickly slid out of one another's opened jeans.
Surprisingly, after the initial awkwardness of catching his son in a sexual act subsided, Randy shrugged off the activity.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "My slash club tricked me into doing that too. You guys will be straight again in a month or so."
That was far more knowledge than the boys ever wanted to know. They blinked, glanced at each other, then glanced back Randy's way.
"What if we aren't?" Stan questioned. He didn't particularly care to "go back" at this point.
"Then I'll throw you out, spit on you, burn your clothing, and dissown you," Randy replied non-chalantly.
"Dude!!!" Stan's voice cracked. "That's not cool!"
"Well God thinks it's not cool to have a queer for a son, Stanley. Now I'll leave you two alone to get all that sinning out of your systems. Sorry about that."
Kyle stared wide-eyed at the retreating mister Marsh. He had to do something. To say something. He couldn't just let Stan get in that kind of trouble. Randy might have been 'tricked' into doing something years ago, but Kyle didn't believe that he and Stan were tricked at all. He didn't want to stop, but he didn't want Stan to have to deal with a disapproving parent either. Stan's dad wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. Surely there had to be some way to justify their homoerotic behavior.
"...What if we're just friends with benefits?"
"Oh!" Randy smiled an embarrassed smile. "That's all? Well that's perfectly acceptable! Why didn't you say that before?"
With that, Randy walked out of the treehouse. The boys sighed in relief.
"That was a close one," Kyle said.
"Yeah, too close," Stan agreed. A few seconds passed before Stan grinned wickedly. "Aight, where were we?" he asked as he slipped his hand down the front of Kyle's pants again.
"...Did you just say 'aight?'" Kyle asked, blinking.
Caught in an uncool statement, Stan smiled sheepishly. "Just shut up and make out with me."
"Fine" Kyle replied with a scoff, his own hand pressing to Stan's stomach and moving downward. Stanley pressed his lips to Kyle's neck, nipping at him.
"...Hey Stan?" the redhead asked. "You don't...You don't do this with anyone else, do you?"
"Hm?" Stan's mouth pulled away. "No dude. Why?"
Kyle sighed, looking up into Stan's eyes. "I've just been thinking a lot lately. We've been...doing a lot of this. You know?"
Stan nodded. "I know dude. I've been thinking too."
They paused again, just looking at each other. Stan broke the silence first.
"...Right now, I guess you're not considered my boyfriend or anything. If you're saying you wanna do stuff with another guy though..."
Kyle cut his friend off. "No way dude! Are you kidding? I only trust you with my body like this."
Stan was relieved by this information. He smiled down at Kyle.
"Well, I don't wanna do anything like that either. Open relationships are gay. Besides, I think you're way hotter than the other guys at school."
Kyle blushed. "...Really?"
"Yeah"
Kyle's smile brightened. "Thanks Stan. That means a lot."
Stan leaned down, once again pressing their lips together. "You're welcome buddy" he replied as he began stroking Kyle down below.
Kyle moaned, stroking Stan back just as lovingly. "S-so what the hell are we? I don't actually wanna do that whole friends with benefits crap."
"We're boyfriends I guess," Stan answered, closing his eyes as he felt the pleasure rising in his groin. "Oh god..."
Kyle blinked. "You guess?"
Stan groaned, their hands continuing to stroke. "L-look, I dunno...I mean, that's still really weird dude."
"What is?"
"To think of you like my boyfriend. You're practically my brother."
"Yet you're making out with me and fondling my penis," Kyle replied.
Stan moaned again, feeling Kyle massage his erect member. "G-good point...But if we become boyfriends, then those slash club girls would win. And if you thought they stalked us -before- we got together..."
Kyle laughed. "Word."
"...Did you just say word?"
Kyle lifted his head up, kissing Stan's lips. "Shut up and make out with me."
Stan grinned and began kissing his new official boyfriend. He started tugging down Kyle's pants, but the flash of a camera interrupted the moment. Stan looked up to see Butters standing in the treehouse entrance, along with Wendy behind him.
Stan sighed. "God dammit."
"Don't stop on our accounts," Wendy insisted with a grin.
Kyle growled as he got up from underneath stan and finally pulled a shirt up over his head. "This is the only reason -to- stop! What do you want?!"
"I was actually coming here to give you guys a friendly warning!" Wendy retorted. "And if you don't want to get caught doing something, don't do it."
"We wouldn't have to worry about getting caught if you fucking slash girls would leave us alone!" Stan growled. He looked over at Butters, glaring. "You're in on this too?"
Butters blushed. "I-I'm awful sorry for bargin' in on your privacy. Uh, b-but Wendy said I had to."
Wendy glared right back at the boys. "What's so bad about our club?!" she challenged. "All we want to do is pair up guys that we know belong together and then admire them. And -you- two aren't exactly doing anything to prove us wrong!"
"We don't -belong- together, Wendy!" Stan snapped.
"You -love- each other!" she accused.
"No we don't!" Kyle argued. "And even if we decide we do at some point, why do you -care-? Go find -yourself- a boyfriend and leave us alone about it!"
Wendy laughed off the suggestion. "Ha! Why have a boyfriend when I can watch two hot guys make out instead?"
"H'yeah!" Butters replied in agreement. Except for the part about not having a boyfriend.
Stan rolled his eyes. "Wendy, why did you even start this club?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders. "I was bored."
"Well now your fruity little club got what it wanted, so can you -please- leave us the hell alone?!" Kyle asked.
Wendy's eyebrows arched in further self-defense. -That's- what I'm here to tell you! Long story short, I took some pictures of you guys in bed the other night. Now that they're developed, I plan to show them to the club members."
"You -WHAT-?" Kyle's jaw dropped in shock and embarrassment. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he quickly added.
"Keep talking to me that way and I won't give the pictures back to yoU!" Wendy threatened.
"Wendy, that's not cool," Stan said. "There's no good reason to show anybody that stuff."
"Yes there is: Power."
Stan and Kyle rolled their eyes. "You've been hanging around Cartman too much," Kyle accused. She glared at Kyle for that remark. The stupid Jew didn't know what he was talking about.
On second thought, maybe he did. Her recent schemes and overall quest to remain on top of the group she'd created were very Cartmanesque to say the least. The only difference was that Wendy was still a good person. She had no plans to blackmail Stan and Kyle with the information, or worse, surprise them by posting the pictures all over school one day. That was something Cartman would do, not her. That difference may have been small, but it was a very important distinction.
"Speaking of which, I'll make sure Cartman doesn't leave the room with any pictures," Wendy continued. "I just need to show the club we've succeeded. They follow you around all the time, but I'm the only one with photographic evidence that you're now together. It's like finally capturing a picture of Big Foot. The elusive thing that everyone knows is out there, and now I have proof of it. That's going to regain me a lot of lost respect and power within the slash club. I'll be happy to give the pictures back to you guys after that."
"Fine, whatever. Just take the pictures and leave," Stan insisted.
Wendy blinked, confused. "...Wait, what? You're not even going to try and stop me?"
"No! We don't care!" Kyle exclaimed.
"You mean, you really don't care if we tell people you're together?"
Stan shook his head. "No. That's never been the point."
Now even more confused, Wendy just stood there. Butters did too. They looked at each other and shrugged. They didn't know what to make of this decision, until the boys explained their reasoning further.
"You see, I've learned something today," Stan said. "This is a free world. People are allowed to write and say and think whatever they want. If the idea of me and Kyle being together somehow brings joy to pathetic people's lives, who cares?"
Wendy scowled. "We aren't pathetic!"
Stan ignored the girl's reply. "To each his own. It may be weird and, at times, completely disgusting, but if that's what you guys like, fine, go crazy. Kyle and I don't have that much of a problem with you thinking stuff about us that might not be true. It's just the way you shove it in our faces non-stop that we don't like. There are other gay pairings out there. straight ones too. Just leave us alone and let us be whatever we're gonna be. Please?"
Butters pouted. "We're sorry fellas."
Wendy nodded, admitting defeat. "I guess...I guess maybe we -could- find a new pairing to obsess over."
Butters raised his hand, wondering if it was okay for him to speak.
"Yeah Butters?" Kyle asked.
"I'll do it with Kenny more if you want me to," he offered in response to Wendy's comment about finding a new pair for the club to focus on.
Wendy looked to Stan and Kyle again and sighed. "I'm sorry about the other girls."
Stan shrugged. "It's okay Wendy. It's not your fault they're all crazy."
"So you'll really get them to stop?" Kyle questioned.
"Yeah. We got what we wanted. Bye guys."
Wendy headed back down the tree, the pictures held safely at her side. Butters left too, finally giving the boys the privacy they've been seeking.
Kyle crossed his arms over his chest. His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "Christ! Two fucking interruptions in one day!"
"Yeah that really killed the mood," Stan agreed. He began counting on his fingers, doing some math inside his head. "It's gonna take at least twenty seconds to get back into it."
TO BE CONTINUED