A/N: I don't really know how this site works. This is my first story ever and my first story published. I don't know if it will work. Sorry for any spelling errors. Sorry if I never finish it. I know it is a bit OOC and probably a bit AU too but I cant help it. I am actually quite pleased with it. I wrote it a long time ago and when I read through it I was kind of impressed with myself. However, the other story I wrote after it was just a disaster so I might not publish that one. I know it is not even close to the best on this site, and I got inspiration for it from reading so many other fabulous works by people. This is kind of a long note, oops. Sorry if it doesn't make sense, obviously it is clearer in my head but I tried to get my point across as best I could. Ok, enjoy, if anyone reads this. There are currently three more chapters. Also I don't know how to do that line thing that a lot of authors use to mark transitions in their stories, so instead i have just left a large 5 line blank space. Oh yeah, it is Craig POV.
I remember when he first kissed me. I'd been pining for him for years, turns out he'd been the same for me. We were sitting in his room, watching a movie on his laptop. We'd become much better friends over the years, not to the point where I replaced Kyle, or he replaced Clyde, but to the point where we would do things just the two of us. I can't remember what we were watching, I think we both forgot the movie, the second it happened. I got up, told him I needed to piss and walked towards the bathroom. I didn't close the door, as it was a habit of mine, and I knew he wouldn't care. I hadn't heard any movement from the room, so it was such a shock when I turned around from washing my hands to see him staring at me in the doorway. He'd chuckled as my face went red with embarrassment, taking a step closer to me. My mind had started whirling, I started freaking out. He'd obviously come this close before, we'd just been lying on the bed. But he'd never seen me naked, or somewhat naked, he'd never followed me into the bathroom. I called him a jackass, I called him a faggot for watching me. But he kept inching closer, I was backed up into the corner. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, which never broke contact with mine, but his mouth was completely disengaged. It was in a dead straight line, possible even frowning, which I didn't understand. He stepped right up to me, stopping only far enough that we weren't touching, but close enough that I could feel his breath on my face, and he could, no doubt, feel mine. His head was tilted slightly up, being smaller he had too, to look me in the eye. He had stood still, watching me, not speaking. His smell had engulfed me, the slight tinge of sweat mixed with some chemical fruit-flavored soap. His warm breath brushing against my neck, and I slumped in the corner, eyeing him like a deer in the headlights. He raised his hand, not quickly, but fast enough to startle me. He raised it to caress my face, I'd flinched, thinking he was going to hit me. I tapped his hand away, demanding to know what he was doing. He'd put his hand down, closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, telling me to shut up so he could think. I could have pushed past him, I know that, but part of me was curious. I needed to see what he was doing. Plus I didn't hate being so close to him. After an eternity he opened his eyes, and he told me, he said 'I'm going to kiss you.' I was stunned. I nodded unwittingly, not having fully processed what he said. He moved closer again until his chest was on mine until his hips were pushed against mine, until his arms had wormed there way around my back, pulling me flush against him. He had hesitated, for him or for me, I'm not sure, but it wasn't enough time for my brain to register what he was doing. I was still back, back when he was staring silently at me, not in the present moment, where he was reaching up on his tiptoes to connect his lips with mine. The gentle pressure had grounded me, wrenching me back to the moment. The beautiful moment, when one of us finally became brave enough to start it. I had kissed him back, desperately. Slipping my tongue in his mouth, running my hands through his hair, under his shirt, down his pants. Both our hands had roamed freely over each others body's that day, but we didn't go any further. As an unspoken agreement, all we did was kiss. Our hips had rubbed gently against each other, we both had boners, but neither of us addressed it. We stayed hidden in the bathroom, just kissing for a large period of time, until his sister, Shelly, interrupted us. Even though he was older and much bigger than her, Stan still quivered when he heard her voice. Untangling himself quickly from me, and rushing out of the bathroom. He had adjusted his sweat pants and opened the door to the menace that was his sister. She had viewed him suspiciously, probably wondering why he was panting and slightly red. She didn't notice the odd angle his pants were at. She didn't notice the hickeys that trailed down his neck. He'd pulled his collar up, looking stupid but at least hiding the red marks. She did see the bed, the crumpled sheets, she saw me come out the open bathroom door, but whether she came to conclusions or not, she didn't question it. I guess it was something we always did, lay on his bed, watching a movie, so she would have no grounds to question us, but either way, Stan had panicked after. She just wanted to tell him she was going out, same with his parents. That's all, that's the reason she stopped us. After she left, he didn't come back to me. I was leaning on the wall beside the bathroom. I didn't know what he would want to do next, so I just stayed in the middle of the two rooms, thinking it was my best bet. He had quietly closed the door and sat on the bed. Looking at his feet, I think he felt guilty. He had a girlfriend, and we had never admitted our feelings for one another before. I knew I shouldn't approach him, so we stayed on separate sides of the room, not talking. Half an hour later, we heard the front door open, then close. We heard voices, shuffling feet and car engines. The lights flashed through his window, illuminating the two of us, still in our respective spots, through the darkness. It had grown dark, night quickly settling on our little mountain town. I don't think he realised until the light of the cars bled through his windows. He turned on his night light, still not saying anything. We had never had a moment like this, and I was unsure of what to do. I had made up my mind not to speak first, but that was half an hour ago. My sisters weren't expecting me home, I was going to sleep at his house. But I didn't know if he wanted that now. I was drumming my fingers lightly on the wall, looking at him. He wasn't moving. I rolled my head up towards the ceiling, stretching my neck, I wanted to sit down. He sprung off the bed, rapidly darting across the room. He collided with me, burying his head into my chest. Enclosing me in his arms, his whole body shook, and he sobbed into me. I wrapped my arms slowly around him, uncertain of what to do. I had never seen him behave like this. With tears streaming down his face, he brought his head up, kissing me again. He drew me into a deep kiss, clutching me with his arms, refusing to let me go. I'd seen him kiss Wendy, it was never this passionate, or from what I saw, watching from the side, it never looked this passionate. I kissed him back. Of course I kissed him back. He was what I had wanted, for years. His tears made our faces wet, the salty liquid weaseling its way between our lips. I tasted his tears, I felt his tongue, I felt his breath whenever he pulled away to catch it. After a while, he led me over to the bed. He paused when we got to it. Holding both my hands he turned to face me. He was a pretty crier, that's what I was thinking when he looked at me. His eyes were slightly red, his face was shiny and damp. His black hair was flopping carelessly over his forehead, and he was gorgeous. I'd regarded him before, often finding myself looking at him, I couldn't guess how long for, but I hoped he hadn't noticed, but that was the night when I could truly look at him. Look at him without him questioning me, without others making assumptions, really take him in. So I did, I scoured him with my eyes. Looking at his body, though I couldn't make it out through his baggy clothing. I looked at his barely tanned skin, not as white as mine, but close enough. I looked at his shaggy mess of hair, it was short, but it wasn't neat. I looked into his stunning blue eyes, and I looked at his soft lips. I wanted to stare at him forever, I wanted to just pause life, stay in the moment, but then, a smile twitched across his soft pink lips. His grip on my hands tightened, and he started drifting sideways, dropping onto the bed. He dragged me down with him, dragged me down on top of him. I was crushing him with my weight, I could feel him underneath me. I didn't move, he did ask me to move. He squirmed a bit, getting into a better position, then releasing his hands from my wrist, he ran them through my hair. He pulled tauntingly at my black locks. Knotting his fingers in my thick, black hair, pulling my face towards him. I succumbed to his grip, locking my lips on his. When we at last separated, we sat on the bed. I sat cross-legged, opposite him. He had his legs in my lap. We had laughed together, talking about meaningless things. We didn't discuss the kiss, and I knew we wouldn't that night. We wound up in bed together, not that this wasn't what we usually did, but this time, he was cuddling up to me. His arm draped protectively over my shoulder, his head burrowed into my back. His breath tickled me through my clothes. His legs were entwined with mine, the covers guarding us against the cold night. The window was open, letting in the fresh mountain air. It nipped at my nose, mingling with the scent of his bed. The same as his scent and I had breathed it in deeply as if his smell were the only thing keeping me sane. I was lulled to sleep by his steady heartbeat, which I could feel as he pressed his chest against me. I slept soundly in his arms, and surprisingly, because I am a restless sleeper, neither of us moved throughout the night. When I woke in the morning, it was because I could feel he had moved. His warmth no longer circulated through me, his breath no longer on me, no longer soothing me and comforting me. I opened my eyes, and rolled over, lying on my back. I knocked his arm beside me, seeing him towering over me. He leant down to kiss me, kiss me good morning. It was the best wake up I had ever received, and he settled himself on top of me. I don't know what time it was, I don't know if his family was home. I didn't care if they were, I didn't care what they would think it they barged in on us. The morning, when I usually woke up to my saddening existence. Sure I had friends, I liked them. I loved one. But I didn't have my parents. They had died, long ago in a car crash. I woke to an empty room, a nearly empty house, save for my sisters, Ruby and Trish. My lonely house, quiet with sleep, because I always was the first to wake. But this morning was different. I woke to him, I woke to a kiss from him, like the corny princess stories, I woke to a kiss. He twisted away from me, slipping out of bed and hastily getting dressed. He did it in front of me, even though it was fast I got a full view of him, not at once. He did the items of clothing in separate increments, revealing his torso, then covering it, then revealing his lower half. He didn't hide anything, he let my eyes explore him shamelessly, but he took it away quickly. He motioned for me to do the same, so I joined him, standing on the floor and changing. He regarded me too, in a similar breathless manner to the way I had looked at him. I left soon after we had eaten breakfast together and talked. But still, we didn't mention the kisses. I knew though, something had changed dramatically. This wasn't a one-off thing, this was us.
That was when we first met. We have progressed so much since then. First, he broke up with his girlfriend, I don't think he told her about us. I don't think he mentioned the kiss. He kept it a secret, we kept it a secret. For a long time, nothing changed at school, nothing changed around our closest friends. Kyle and Clyde were clueless, both a bit oblivious to our furtive glances at each other. We didn't hang out any more than usual, it was only what we did when we were together that changed. At first, we tiptoed around our families, we still sneak around his. But my sisters know, no that's a lie, my older sister knows. We decided to tell her, tell her before she caught us, tell her because we felt we needed to tell someone, tell her because we felt she was the only one we could talk to. I knew she wouldn't mind, she was never one to get upset over things like this. Her only request was that, if we were going to do something, 'R rated' as she put it, we would warn her first. Though it started out quite awkwardly, it began to run smoothly. I would casually mention it, and she would whisk away our younger sister for what she felt was ample time. Which it always was. Not too long ago, we determined, that there had been sufficient time since his break up with Wendy, for us to go public, or partially public. Stan, ever the gentlemen, told Wendy first. He asked for her permission to tell others, promising he wouldn't if she was at risk of embarrassment. That angel hugged him, she finally let him go, let him become fully mine, let us be free, not that she was deliberately holding us before. We announced it to our friends, Kyle and Clyde, Cartman, Butter, Kenny, Tweek and Token. We didn't comment on it much, we did notify any others, but news travels fast. Soon most people in our school knew. The reactions were mixed, but on the whole, life continued without a hitch. Stan waited longer to tell his family, uncertain of how Randy would behave upon hearing the news. On the day we told his mother I was there, we were in his basement. We were sitting on the couch together, watching a movie. It wasn't a compromising position, nothing to make her suspicious. She attended to her washing, when she came out of the laundry, Stan placed a hand on my leg. He cleared his throat for her attention, I laughed at his dramatic actions. He briefly explained our relationship, leaving out everything basically, apart from the label. It really was the first time I had heard him call me his boyfriend. When we told our friends we said dating, it wasn't that big of a deal, but my heart still skipped a bit. She just nodded, warned us not to do anything silly and left us to the movie. She always had a soft spot for me, she had helped me immensely when I lost my parents. She had helped my sisters too, the whole town had in fact. I think I had made a good impression on her anyway because I did well in school, so she had no issues with our dating. The very second she closed the door, Stan sprung upon me. He kissed me hungrily, straddling my lap. I had again laughed, and we had ignored the movie. Laughing and kissing for the rest of the day. We never did anything more than a kiss in his house, the more advanced couple's activities are reserved for mine. In the evening, we had been left alone downstairs for the entire day, we had not been invited for dinner with the family, but we knew it was waiting for us. They had chosen to give us our space, and we were grateful. Stan started crying. It was a rare occurrence for him, but, as I had come to find out, whenever he got too caught up in his emotions, he would cry. He sobbed into my shoulder, it was not sad tears, it was not happy tears, it was tears of love. I held him close to me, our hearts beat in sync. His knees pulled tightly to his chest, my arms cloaked him like a blanket. I rocked him on my lap, muttering soothing words to him and kissing him. We slept downstairs that night, I don't know why we were trusted to stay in a room together, but it didn't matter. We lay on the floor, wrapped in blankets, huddling up to each other, again we did nothing but kiss.