Kyle's Jeans

By AllzStar

Author's Note: CELEBRATING 100 REVIEWS! Yay! This story now has the most reviews of any story I've ever written on here! Thanks so much for all your amazing support, even of those who don't frequently review. It really helps me continue, because normally it takes me forever to finish a story (if ever), so thank you thank you THANK YOU!! Also, I've started a new story (YES, yet another one. I'm only working on this one and the new one now). It's a STYLE one (YAY)! There's only the prologue so far, but if you're bored, feel free to check it out. It's on my profile, it's called Trial and Error. Kyle loses his memory and Stan has to deal with being a stranger. Drama! :) Enjoy this chapter guys!

Chapter Eleven – We're Free, Motherfuckers

"Land, ho!" Kenny cries, pointing in a completely random direction.

I glance up at him, wiping sweat off my brow as I attempt to untie the knots that are holding the yacht to the dock. "We haven't even taken off yet, Ken."

"No, I mean, land HO!" he yells, pointing dramatically.

I look to where he's pointing and let out a bark of laughter. Farther down the dock is a huge, million-dollar yacht, and attempting to board it without falling flat on her face is the most high maintenance woman I have ever seen. She looks like she just walked out of some Paris Hilton spoof. Seriously.

"What are you guys laughing at?" Kyle pokes his head out of the cabin curiously. His eyes fall on the woman and he barely bites back laughter. "Guys, it's rude to—point and—laugh!" But he's already clutching his stomach with mirth.

I'm smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. This trip is gonna be the highlight of my life. I can feel it.

Not only am I wearing flip-flops, sunglasses, and a baseball cap—when normally, in South Park, I would never dream of such a luxury—I am ready to embark on a twelve-day boat trip with my two best friends (Ike ended up not being able to come because he broke his foot last week).

I'm so glad that Kenny agreed to come along. Ever since I invited him, he's been back to his old self. Now that I've gone without the Kenny I know and love for a couple of months, I realize how much I missed him. Although Kenny will disembark the yacht earlier than Kyle and I to join his family in Anaheim, I'm glad to have him along, if only for a few days.

Kyle is a sight to behold. He's that buzzing ball of fire again, puttering around the yacht like a professional sailor, his pale skin slick with sun-tan lotion and his curls piled underneath his South Park Cows baseball cap, which he has on backwards. He gestures for Kenny to climb aboard, which he does—rather, he jumps on, causing the boat to rock dangerously. Kyle loses his balance and falls sideways into the sail, which we have yet to hoist. He curses as he tries to get back up without getting the sail wet and/or muddy.

"God damn it, Kenny," he moans, finally standing and brushing himself off. "Do you have to be so careless all the time?"

Kenny shrugs, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He drops down into the cabin and disappears. Kyle looks at me and shakes his head, barely hiding his own smile. "Good thing he's not staying too long," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Or else he might get bored and try to purposefully capsize us, or something."

"I heard that," Kenny chides from the bowels of the yacht.

I exchange a grin with Kyle before tossing him the docking rope. "Let's get outta here," I saw, stepping onto the main deck.

"I need help with the sail," Kyle says as he tugs on the rope. "It always gets stuck at the top."

I move behind him and cover his small hands with my big ones, circling him with my arms as I do so. My face heats up when I realize what I'm doing. Kyle doesn't comment, but I know he's probably redder than I am. I wrap my fingers around his and we both pull on the rope, hoisting it up the rest of the way. I try really hard not to notice the fact that his back is pressing into my chest and his pale, creamy neck is inches from my lips and his fingers feel cool and smooth under mine. I stop myself before I can bury my nose in his curls that are slightly damp at the base of his neck due to sweat. I'm going to be spending over a week alone with him on a tiny yacht. I'm going to have to learn to restrain myself.

The sail hoisted, I move quickly away from Kyle, pulling the rim of my ball cap low over my face to hide my red cheeks.

Kyle stands there quietly for a moment before snapping into the action, moving to start the motor. He begins to pull the yacht out of the harbour. I watch him, surprised at how experienced he is with all of this. It's not like there's any sailboats in South Park. But I guess all those summer vacations to visit his uncle out here in California really paid off, because he really seems to be in his element here.

The smell of the sea is pungent at first, but I soon get used to the briny fish stink. As the boat picks up speed and the sail gulfs with wind, a sense of peace settles over me. I feel ready for anything that's out there for us to discover within the next two weeks.

That being said, I'm scared shitless of that week and a half that I have to spend alone with Kyle.

In the tiny cabin bedroom.

Just the two of us.

The bed was made for two people, but since Kenny and Kyle are all so skinny we can all squeeze onto it. But once Kenny's gone, then what? I just really hope Kyle's the kind of sleeper that curls up in a corner and doesn't move.

I guess I can always jump into the ocean if I get too hot, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, so we're sailing away. Kenny's already raiding the mini-fridge that we stocked chock-a-block full of beer (that Kenny's older brother Kevin got for us), pop, fruit, chips and salsa, and other food that offers to real nutrients or attributes to our health. Kyle groans when he emerges onto the deck with three beers.

"To freedom!" Kenny whoops as he expertly twists the caps off of all three at the same time.

"Kenny, we haven't even been sailing then minutes. Can't we wait to break out the booze?" Kyle asks, reluctantly accepting the beer anyway.

"Why wait?" Kenny asks, taking a seat next to me on the cushioned bench on deck and kicking his feet into my lap. "We're free, motherfuckers! No more high school and any of its bullshit!"

I raise my bottle to clink it with his and take a long swig. "Amen."

"To freedom," Kyle agrees, knocking his bottle against mine and taking a long swig. He coughs and splutters, spitting half the mouthful out onto the deck.

Kenny rolls around on the bench, laughing. "The kid's never had beer before!"

"The fuck?" I ask, looking at Kyle disbelievingly. "Really?"

"Think of who my parents are, Cartman," Kyle says, rolling his pretty green eyes.

I laugh. "Ha. Good point."

He takes another swig and manages to swallow it. "You guys are a bad influence on me."

"Let the corruption begin!" Kenny hollers, chugging half his beer and belching loudly.

So it's like this. The three of us drinking and laughing and having a fucking blast.

For the first time in a long time, I feel truly happy.


Author's Note: Probably one of my favourite chapters so far, no?