"Kyle, I swear to fucking God, if I shit myself because of you," Stan threatened, but left it open and therefore nearly meaningless.
"Oh it's not like this is your first horror movie," I rolled my eyes. I'd gotten over feeling up Stan's arm, and that night I'd pestered him into agree to a movie that Damien given me when I saw him last. He was a horror junkie, much like myself but Stan on the other hand couldn't stomach a man cutting off his own leg. He was a bit pitiful in that aspect.
Though I had to give him some credit – this was the scariest piece of shit I'd seen in my life. On top of that, Stan had his own television in his room, which made the it seem like we were the only one's alive, sitting in a dark room where I could barely make out Stan's expression.
The television let out a belch of a scream and while I merely blinked, Stan did look ready to shit himself. The film continued and instead of watching it, I had my eyes of Stan. He was meant to be the masculine one, but frankly, at that moment he was a complete pussy and I didn't mind it. I kind of liked it. It had a charming twist.
"Okay, done. Time for bed." Stan announced the second we saw the first list of names in the ending sequence. He switched on a light, something I forbid during the movie and sat next to me on the bed. "Com'mon Ky, get your scrawny ass off my sheets." He started tugging at the blanket under me as if some monster was chasing him and the only safe haven was under the covers.
"S-Stan? I think I hear something outside..." I lied, trying for my best terrified face. Maybe Damien was getting to me and I was becoming more evil than I thought. Normally I couldn't lie for shit, my acting was horrible and I usually bust out laughing at the most inconvenient times but Stan was already jumpy so I needn't push him far before he had a breakdown.
He stopped all his moments and, wide eyed, stared at me. "I'm going to go make sure the door is locked." I added, sliding out of the room. I closed the door, but made sure that a small sliver was left open. And with that I too a few steps then let out my most terrified gasp, falling to the floor.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from giggling, but I added a bit of a twist, turning my head to the opening in the door, knowing that was all Stan could see. "St-Staaan..." I let out my lest words before my eyes glazed over and my jaw went slack as I let out my best 'dying' sound.
I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but I knew I couldn't wait to see his reactioin. At first I was certain Stan wouldn't believe me, but looked pretty fucked over. I pressed a nail into my finger to regain composure.
"Kyle!" Stan finally screamed and threw himself at my lifeless body. He pulled me by my arms, refusing to come out of the room for fear of whatever got me. It hurt a bit, but I had to act as if I couldn't feel I thing. Though my eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling, I could hear the bedroom door click as he locked it.
"Kyle, tell me where it hurts," Stan said, this time purely panicked. He shook me by my arms, bent over my body. He must have figured out that this wasn't working because he pulled my into his chest, one hand on the back of my head, holding it to his shoulder, while his arm kept me pressed against his torso.
This was nice. Better than I expected.
Suddenly I could feel his chest heaving and I didn't know if it was from his asthma or if I'd made him cry in fear. I didn't want to stop, but Stan had also reflexively pulled me tighter against him and I couldn't breathe. I didn't really want to die, so I let out a gurgle.
"I... want... to... eat... your... penis..." I muttered, blinking my eyes back to reality, and tugging at the back of his shirt.
"Kyle!" This time my name was said with anger, and Stan dropped me to the floor.
I hit the ground, with a loud thunk, but that could hardly be herd over my laughter. "Jesus Christ!" I managed, tears rolling down my cheeks, and my stomach crunching. I was too busy trying to get my breath back to even notice what Stan was doing.
When I got back my bearings Stan was in his bed, back facing me and the light turned off. "Aw, come on, Stanny~" I sang, grin on my face but I was worried I might have gone too far. I picked myself up off the floor, and curled into the bed next to Stan.
"I'm sorry." I tried to sound serious and wrapped my arm around him to make sure he was fine. Peering over his shoulder I could see the glisten of a few tears on his cheeks and to make up for it, I kissed his neck.
Oh, Kyle is a bitch XD I blame his new boytoy, haha. Please R and R, it will make Stan stop crying~