Here's the sixth! Oh goodness. Today was the start of the new semester. I am really regretting going into grade 11 Biology… I'm getting a lot of dirty looks for being one of the only grade 10's! Ahhhh! Haha. So, anyways, I'm not sure how much homework I'm going to be getting so I'll be trying to update just as much as I can. Read on and as always, reviews are appreciated.
Also, this chapter will be slightly shorter than the rest. But it'll be worth it, I assure you.
Stan's Confession
Kyle's POV
Stan came running up, cheeks turning pink from him coughing, his hair blown about from the wind.
"Kyle …" He coughed. "Dude, goddamn. You walk fast."
I crossed my arms over my chest and waited expectantly, trying to act like I didn't care, but I could still feel my heart thumping inside my chest.
"What do you want, Stan?"
He must've known how angry I was. He stepped a bit closer, his gentle features visible in light given off by the moon. His eyes looked so sad.
"Kyle, Dude, I really need to talk to you."
"Stan, what do you want? I'm sorry I kissed you, alright? I know you don't feel the same way as I do about you, but let's just let it go, okay?"
Stan's nose scrunched up, almost as if he were disgusted by my words.
"Damnit, Kyle! It's not that. We've really got to talk because I really need to tell you something. Okay? Have I got your permission?"
I sighed and uncrossed my arms, letting them drop to my sides.
"Fine. What?"
Stan breathed a sigh of relief and took me gently by the elbow, staring me in the eyes.
"Kyle, I don't know how to candy-coat this so I'm just going to come right out and say it. Are you ready?"
No, I wasn't ready. I'd never be ready. But I nodded.
"Kyle, I …" He paused and looked down at his entwined hands. "I like you. More than a friend. I kissed you back today, and I don't know why I ran, but I'm so sorry."
I stared at him in awe and watched as his blushed and his head dropped.
"I'm really sorry, Kyle. I know I hurt you. Kenny told me and I am so sorry. I am so fucked up right now."
Kenny?
What was he doing? He was interfering in my life. Still, I was grateful. I closed my open mouth and shook my head a few times.
"Oh, Stan. You're not fucked up …"
"Yes I am! I hurt your feelings and I'm so screwed up, I don't even know what I want, Kyle!"
He was crying now. His hands were at his sides, almost helpless. I reached up and wiped away his tears with my thumb. How many times had he cried this week?
"It's okay. You're just having a rough time. We all go through them. Thanks for telling me, though, Stan."
He nodded and gave off a small smile, left over tears lingering on his tired face. I wipe them away too and pulled him into my arms. I was in control this time.
He put his head on my shoulder and I felt him go slightly limp in my grasp. Christ, his hands were in my hair. It was enough to make me scream. He smelled so good. And what's this? I felt Stan's hand reach down and grip me through my jeans. I moaned into his shoulder and was suddenly worried about who might see us.
"Stan …" I croaked. "Not here. Not here … too public."
He ignored my protest and moved his head so he could kiss my neck. I could feel the crotch of my jeans begin to tighten. It all seemed so fast … ten minutes ago, we weren't even on speaking terms. Now, we were close to making out ... and in public, too.
I wasn't complaining though.
"God, Stan …" I moaned.
This should have felt wrong. I mean, I knew what was going to happen and we were only teenagers. Stupid, hormone-driven teens. But, the crazy thing was it didn't feel wrong. It felt incredibly good with his hands exploring my body, mine gently tugging at his messy black hair.
"Kyle … Kyle … I'm sorry." He whispered, his breath coming out in heavy pants.
I stopped his wandering hand from exploring my genitals further. He pulled back a bit, confused.
"Let's go to my house."
Stan shook his head.
"No … no. If your Mom catches us, you're in serious shit. We'll go to mine. My parents are heavy sleepers and Shelley is at a friends house tonight."
I smiled slightly. Taking his hand, we walked shamelessly down the streets and to the Marsh's residence.
-
I had forgotten how long it had been since I was alone with Stan at his house. Someone was always with us, usually Kenny or Cartman.
The minute we walked in, I was in awe. I had seen it a million times, but deep down, it always surprised me.
It was spotless. Not one thing was out of place. I knew Mrs. Marsh took pride in keeping her family's home so clean.
Stan took my shoes, placing them carefully in the hall closet, making sure to close the door quietly.
"Don't want to take the risk of waking anyone up." He winked at me.
I could've jumped on him right there.
He took my hand gently and pulled me up the stairs in that same quiet manner. The stairs creaked under our weight, but it was nothing. Certainly not enough to wake Stan's parents.
Once in his room, Stan closed the door, locking it behind his back. He looked at me, leaning against the door, shy eyes covered by his bangs. I honestly couldn't handle waiting for this anymore. I needed it so badly.
I backed him against the door, my hands placed on his waist. I moved in and pressed my lips to his; particularly happy to feel his hands cup me under my ass. I was taking it as a sign that he wanted this as badly as I did.
"Kyle. To …the bed …" He sighed, managing a finger to point at his need.
I nodded, still kissing him and we tumbled rather clumsily to his bed. I ended up on the bottom, one leg between his and the other draping over the edge. He tugged at the lining of my shirt, pausing from our lip-lock to pull it off and toss it away. I did the exact same to him, grinning a bit as his shirt got caught around his neck.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, partially naked, building up the excitement and anticipation. Part of me was nervous, but there was a feeling inside of me that I couldn't ignore. I wanted Stan in the worst way. It scared me. It all seemed like a dream that could break at any minute. That would kill me.
He was in no hurry. It was a good fifteen minutes of straight making out before I felt his hands unzip my jeans. I almost blushed as his hand brushed my erection, but realized stupidly that he had one, too. He groaned when my own hand butterflied across it to remove his pants.
"Oh, Kyle." He whimpered.
I threw his pants to the ground, loathing them for covering all that I had been missing out on for so long. He disposed of mine soon, with much more trouble considering I was on the bottom. His fingers were gentle and efficient, touching my skin carefully, as if I would break at any minute.
Once most of the clothes were gone, our underwear was the only thing holding us apart. Our legs still laced together, his breathing heavy and slow, my heart pounding and anxious, he looked at me. It wasn't just any look. He looked into my soul. His eyes caring and soft, they apologized.
"Stan, are you sure about this? I mean … I don't want us to do anything we'll regret …"
He shushed me up with a kiss, his tongue lingering upon mine for a few seconds.
"I'm sure. You have no idea how long I've wanted this. Kyle, I think I may very well be in love with you."
And under his parent's roof, in the middle of the night, we made love for the first time.
