Disclaimer: Do not own them.
Title: Fantasies
Summary: Kyle is sickened by his own fantasy
Warnings: Slash Cussing PWP (Kinda)OOC
Couple: StanKyle
Written By: Shino
Inspired By: IDK, it just seems like some taboo thing that everyone at least thinks about
Comments: Ewww, just ewww.
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Parent's Bed
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Stan pushed Kyle down with a playful eagerness, only slightly put off by their current location. Hurriedly climbing on top of the other he wasted no time and reinstated the kiss that had been broken.
Kyle was decidedly not as turned on as the other, but was none-the-less partaking of the fun. Hands rising to thread with ebony coloured hair, knees bending to come up on either side of narrow hips, tongue dancing with another that had the slight taste of Peanut Butter. He was having a grand old time, as long as he didn't think about whose bed they were on.
Sure, he's the one that suggested this spot, but it didn't mean he was entirely fine with it. It felt weird. It felt different.
For one thing, his and Stan's beds never squeaked, like this one did, also, theirs weren't so hard, and lastly, there was so much fucking room. You could fit, like, five people on this bed, where were the edges? Fuck if he knows. Kyle's used to twin sized beds, the ones where there was always the constant danger of falling off.
But, again, none of this really bother Stan. It wasn't his parent's bed. His parent's hadn't fuh-
Kyle was instantly put off.
He turned his face away and his hands dropped. "I don't. . think I can do. . . this."
Stan made a soft whining noise which was just as broken up as Kyle's sentence do to pants. "Seriously?"
Nodding, Kyle reached back up to pat the other consolingly on the back. "Sorry dude."
Collapsing onto Kyle's chest, Stan didn't care if he was crushing the out-of-breath teen. "Ass." His own hands moved to thread with curly red-head.
Kyle 'off'ed and coughed into Stan's neck. "No, dammit. . ugh, can't breath." He really didn't care that Stan was on him, it didn't really restrict his breathing too badly, it was more of the fact that Stan's hard-on was against his thigh. It made him feel bad for ruining the others fun.
Stan groaned his woes and rolled off the other. "Ass." He repeated himself, hands now darting to his waist-line.
Rolling his eyes, Kyle accepted the insult and closed his eyes, ignoring the noises Stan brought upon himself.
Crap, maybe they could try again next weekend.
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XD The things that make me laugh.
Oh, note: I'm half-through with the Truck thing now, and the whole time I'm imagining the situation, Kahl's in a dress. :B
. . . Oh. . . Yes. . I've fucked up (once again) and I'm in trouble. Ah ha ha ha. (Note my tone-less laughter.) And because I'm in trouble, I slept, literally, all day (and night) yesterday, and had to force myself to get up and ride my bike to the library cause I love you guyz. . . Yep. . . . . God I'm fucking tired. . . Back to the point: I'm gann try to get everything worked out and update soon, but. . . I may give up. Try and see if they really CAN return me. Tha'd be freakin schweet.
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