Okay, people. I want to thank you so much, those of you who reviewed. I know a ton of people read that didn't review, and I'll thank you too, even though I don't know what your thoughts are over this whole thing. Maybe I didn't move you enough to leave a review? Anyway, this is the final chapter, excluding the epilogue. I have already started to write that, and I feel that it is probably unnecessary to the plot, but adds that extra oomph in there that I'm looking for. So look for that in the near future.
As for this story as a whole—it was my first attempt at a chaptered South Park fic. I am happy with how it turned out, and when my school work load lightens, I suspect I'll try another. Maybe a one-shot this time. Whatever works. But for now, school is going to have to come first. So thank you once again!
Chapter 9- Returning The Favor
Stan's POV
My body freezes over. Whoever thought hearing your own name could sound so wonderful and painful at the same time? He hasn't said my name so encouraging like that in a really long time. I can't remember the last time.
I am unsure of what to do next. He blinks twice, trying his best to wake up. I watch as he rubs his eyes and sits up on the bed. What is he doing here?
"What time is it?" he asks casually. Three weeks of not talking to me, and he asks me the time. I guess I can't be too picky. Although something is up—he plainly has a watch that he could look at. Did he know I was out with someone? I panic. What if…just WHAT IF he was coming to talk to me earlier, and I wasn't here so he's too tired to do it tonight? That wouldn't be fair. He's already here!
"Its past one," I reply shortly. WHY ARE YOU HERE, I want to scream out.
I can see that his eyes are just now adjusting to the soft light being put out from my desk lamp. He looks confused. Oh no, he's taken something else and he's not going to remember how he got in here.
"How was your date." His question is cold and said in the form of a statement. He doesn't really care how my date went. He's trying to make small talk, though, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. "Is he downstairs waiting for you?"
"No."
His body shifts positions, and I notice his shoulders fall. Could he be just as nervous as I am? I hope so. Dammit, I deserve an apology.
"What happened?"
I glare at him. "That's really none of your business, Kyle."
For a moment, I feel guilty at what I just said. His green eyes look up at me, pleadingly. But I'm not going to be a pushover about this. He hurt me pretty badly, and he needs to know this. I return with an unforgiving stare. He's going to have to try a lot harder than this.
He lets out a loud sigh. So loud, I think he purposely does it so I can hear him. "Fair enough," he replies, and nods his head.
Whoa. He just got off the bed, and he is walking directly toward me. Holy shit! He is standing only a couple feet away from me, and I can feel my insides rise in temperature. My palms are definitely sweating. My whole body is sweating! Great. Just fucking great.
"Stan, I haven't been a very good friend." That's an understatement. "Actually, I've been a downright shitty one."
That's more like it. My eyes show mercy already! Damn, I AM a pushover. I straighten out my expression, ready to listen to a possible explanation. The time has come. This may be the turning point of our friendship…if there is a friendship left. I squeeze my palms together and tense up. I have to at least appear like a hardass. Truth is, I've already forgiven him.
He looks down at the ground. I follow his eyes to his feet, which are kicking at the carpet. I glance back up to his face, which is tilted and all I can see is red curls. He nervously runs his fingers through his hair. God, how I want to play with his hair. I've always loved that hair.
"I didn't handle things well," he says at last, looking back up at me once again. He takes a step closer, and my heart is pounding out of my chest.
"But I think I know how to absolve things," he continues.
He reaches up to my own face, which seems to weigh 1,000 pounds, along with the rest of my body. Before I can even register what is going on, he pulls my head to his, finding my lips with his. An electric shock jolts throughout my body, and the weight has instantly been lifted. I almost collapse in exhaustion. He pulls my body nearer, wrapping his other arm around my waist. I feel his hand press into my back, causing me to fall even further into him.
His other arm slowly falls from my face, to my shoulders, to my waist to join the other. I bring my arms to his shoulders, playing with those beautiful tresses of hair.
His tongue slowly enters my mouth, and I welcome it warmly with my own. He's so beautiful. And such a great kisser. I open my eyes to make sure it is really Kyle who is kissing me. I can taste the whiskey, but he doesn't seem to be under the influence. His eyes weren't glazed over this time. That's a good sign.
He adjusts his position of his hands to my upper back. He is cradling me with his arms now. And his kiss is getting deeper and deeper. Every time he starts to pull away, he comes back with even more passion. I feel one of his hands against the back of my head now—he is guiding my kisses. If ever I was unsure of my love, I know now. Deep in love, and faller deeper with every passing second.
He decides to pull away once and for all, but his hand finds its way to the side of my face again. He brushes back the sweaty black strands of hair on the side of my face, and I mold my face to his hand. I know I'm grinning like an idiot. Do I care? NO!
I open my eyes and fall into his deep, entrancing gaze. I see a speckle of gold right below the pupil, and through that speck, I see at last Kyle's soul.
He smiles at me warmly. It gives me goose bumps. "I'm sorry, Stan. I'm so sorry for treating you like that. You didn't deserve any of it. I said some things that I should never have said. They aren't true anyway." His breath is warm and I feel it on my mouth, we are still that close. I want to kiss him again. I lean back in to meet his lips. He gently kisses back, but pulls away quickly. I think he wants to apologize more. No worries, Kyle. I FORGIVE YOU!
"Kenny….Kenny told me to do that," he begins. "I wasn't handling our situation. At all. You know this, I was avoiding you."
I simply nod my head. Captain Obvious strikes again.
"Last weekend, I went down to see Kenny, because God knows if Cartman found out about this, we'd be in hell for the rest of our lives." I decide to wait to tell him that Cartman already knows. "But Kenny's a great guy, and he got me thinking. You know, about us. And where we stand. Because I can't ignore you, dude. I can't be without you in my life."
I like where this is going.
"Stan, you are my best friend. I can't lose you to something so stupid. And truthfully, I was really unsure of how I felt about you. You know I love you. I just wasn't sure if I was…in love with you. You know?"
Again, I nod, now unsure of where this is heading. I'm praying for the best.
"So Kenny told me that I had to kiss you. To find out if I had feelings like that for you." He pauses. "I didn't want to do it to begin with, because I didn't want to hurt you if I didn't feel the same way. But I decided its our friendship at stake. I'm willing to try anything. And now I know how I feel."
He stops there? What? HOW DO YOU FEEL! I stare at him blankly.
"Stan, I like you. I like everything about you."
…
"But?" I ask. There is ALWAYS a but in that type of sentence.
He smiles at me, revealing his perfect white teeth. "But nothing. I want to see where this goes."
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. I can't breathe! I'm hyperventilating! I can't feel my legs. I can't feel my entire body! Its all floating up in the clouds somewhere. Thank you, God! Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you…
Okay, so he's not confessing his undying love for me, but did I really expect him to? Did I really expect him to whisk me off to a faraway land and live with me happily ever after?
Did I really think he was even going to kiss me? Hell, I never thought he was going to talk to me again.
I try my best to remain outwardly calm and collected. I want to hear it once more. "What are you saying, Kyle?"
He leans in and passionately presses his lips against mine, once more. I've died and gone to heaven. He tastes like a saint. I love him. I melt at his touch, and he instantly revives me with another batch of kisses. When he discovers I'm stable once again, strong enough to support myself, he pulls away and gently releases me from his grasp. I feel like falling to the floor.
"Stan," he says, barely above a whisper. "We have to take things…slow."
I look at him with intrigue.
"I mean, I'm not used to this, you know? I can't just automatically feel normal being with…a guy. I'm asking you to be patient."
Kyle is so adorable. I love him even more, and I brush his cheek with the back of my hand. "I would never do anything you don't want to do, Ky."
---
Wendy ran down the corridor of the airport to be at the security gates before Eric. She had left her dorm too late due to some last minute decorations, and she was sure she wouldn't make it in time.
Sure enough, Eric was sitting on the ground near the security checkpoint, looking glum. He looked like his grandmother had just died. And from his appearance and stature, she figured he'd been there for a while.
"I'm so sorry!" she called out to him across the hall, eager to reach his side. His eyes looked up, but his face continued the same gloomy expression. As she moved nearer, his hurt evolved into a deep smile.
"Its about time, woman!" he yelled back. She breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't mad. She knew she already had enough to make up for—she didn't need to add the lack of punctuality. Her run slowed down into a trot as she reached him, throwing her arms around his shoulders in a giant bear hug. He was still on the ground, but he returned the hug with equal force.
Wendy knew that their fights the past week had almost prevented her from seeing him. He had threatened if she didn't stop obsessing over Stan and Kyle, he wasn't going to be the good boyfriend he is and come visit her. And so Wendy bit her tongue and tried to forget about the whole situation. She had to see Eric. He was her life.
Wendy wasn't jealous of Kyle. She wasn't sure why she acted that way on the phone, but it had nothing to do with being jealous. Perhaps the complete shock of finding out the one she thought she was going to marry was the now the one who was making out with guys could have had something to do with it.
Wendy was always trying to come up with scientific data for each and every circumstance in life, and she had struggled with many theories. She battled the idea that she turned Stan gay several times. That was just too much to handle. Deep down she knew that it wasn't true. But it was weird to know that she was the first and last girl Stan had been with. Or at least been in love with.
Then she started to theorize the mechanics of Stan and Kyle. Eric Cartman had told her since day one that they were a couple of fags, but she, of course, never took that literally. She had no reason to. It turned out her boyfriend had been right all along. And that made Wendy angry. She was a competitive person, and she had fought with Eric at times for Stan's straight image. There was one time that Eric went on a several day kick in high school claiming that Stan was checking out other guys in the locker room. Wendy had seen this as an obvious attempt to win her over. By starting rumors that her boyfriend was gay. Now she was starting to wonder if they truly were rumors…
None of that mattered now, because Eric was kissing her with more passion than she ever had with Stan.
Not that Stan wasn't a good boyfriend. He was amazing, and he treated her like gold. She often felt mismatched with him for some reason, though, and when she discovered her feelings for Eric, it all came together. Wendy had loved Eric Cartman even before she broke up with her old flame. She just hadn't realized it.
Stan was right. She of all people should have been one to listen to him that day when he needed someone to talk to. She was concerned for him and wanted to call to apologize, but she had a feeling that Stan wouldn't want to even hear her voice. She was so sure that his outburst at the party with her and Eric had caused their friendship to falter, but in truth, it was her neglect.
After they had broken up, Wendy wanted nothing to with Stan. She got over him rather quickly and painlessly, much to his dismay. He was still stuck on her, making pathetic attempts to win her back. For awhile, it was as if he was actually trying to compete with Eric. What he didn't realize was that Wendy's heart already belonged to Eric.
Eric extended his hands out, signaling for Wendy to pull him off the ground. She was surprisingly strong for being so small, and she yanked him up in one swift motion.
"Where to now, Wends?" he asked, brushing off his backside. He lightly nudged her with his elbow. "That bathroom over there is probably clean enough…" He smiled widely.
She giggled. "Ew! You are gross! Public bathrooms are gross! Wipe that grin off your face, it AIN'T gonna happen!" Wendy cringed at the thought of getting it on in an airport bathroom. She had other plans for the evening.
"This is for you," she informed, and handed over a folded piece of parchment paper sealed with a deep blue sticker. She watched Eric as he accepted her gift and curiously opened it. His eyes scanned the letter, moving left to right with each new line. She had rewritten the damn thing so many times, she had it memorized.
Dearest Eric,
You are cordially invited to attend a highly exclusive celebration held at 303 Whiteford Hall on the evening of September 23rd at 7pm. Dress attire is casual. R.S.V.P. with a kiss.
She smiled warmly after receiving a soft kiss on the cheek. She knew it was a corny invitation, but it would fit perfectly with the mood she was going for. "You will be attending then, yes?" she asked, playing the part of an eloquent young woman.
Eric picked up on the role playing, gently bowing his head. Wendy positioned her arm so that he could easily hook his into hers, and they cleared the busy aisle way.
Once outside in the parking lot, Wendy opened the door for Eric, and politely shut it when he was secured. She glided over to the driver's side, taking a seat herself. On the drive to her dorm, she said nothing. When Eric would try to find out what was going on, she simply smiled. Nothing was going to ruin her night. Everything had to play out perfectly.
Wendy was a planner. Even when she was three years old, if she didn't have everything just right, down to the very last detail, she would go insane. And she would pout. Now that she was older and more mature, she would probably just go insane.
"Wendy, seriouslah, what is this all about?" Eric had started to get fidgety in his seat. The drive to Stanford from the airport was at least forty-five minutes. It was hard to keep quiet that whole time. Even though it had only been about five minutes.
"You'll see!" was her response. Short and sweet.
"Wends, you don't need to go through all this trouble for me. I'm happy just being here with you. Getting to spend time with my girl!" He leaned over the center console and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I don't need anything fancy."
She tilted her head the opposite direction of his puckered lips and smiled. Her eyes remained glued to the road. "You are getting what you deserve, Eric, and that's final."
And that's how it was until they reached her dorm room.
"So, will we be seeing your roommate at all?" Eric asked, hopefully. It was so obvious what he wanted.
Wendy had not stopped smiling since the airport. "Eric, would you keep your pants on for two seconds? I promise it will be worth it." She led him up the long flights of stairs that led to the third floor. It was pointless to take the elevator because it was a ten story dorm complex, and the elevators were slower than an old person on a motorized scooter. They reached the top of the stairs, Wendy in tip-top shape, Eric panting heavily.
"So…you're trying to kill me. I see what your plans are now," he joked. He was still breathing heavily when they arrived in front of Wendy's dorm room.
"This is your last chance to escape, Eric Cartman. Once you enter, there is NO GOING BACK. Do you dare?" Wendy explained, building up a highly anticipated moment.
Eric looked at her lovingly. "You are so cute."
"Is that a yes?" she asked.
He smiled warmly. "Do with me what you shall, miss. I am all yours."
Wendy smiled deviously. "Oh I intend to."
She pushed open the door, leading him into a dark, cluttered room. The walls had been covered with a deep purple blanket, and there were unlit candles strewn about. In the center of the room was a card table, complete with two paper plates, two sets of plastic wear, and two out-of-place wine glasses. In the center of the set up was a small box, wrapped in brown paper with a purple bow on top.
"You may sit down, sir," she instructed, inching a chair out from underneath the table. She gestured over at him to come sit down. He did as he was told.
"It is not all put together yet. Close your eyes please."
Eric raised his eyebrow. "You mean to tell me that Wendy Testaburger isn't prepared?" He knew how much of an organizational freak she was.
"Calm down before I smack you," she responded bluntly. "I am plenty prepared—I just didn't want to leave candles unattended, food out, etc."
"I see," he said.
"Now close your eyes!" she repeated.
Eric closed his eyes.
Wendy scurried about, trying her best to complete last minute details. Eric sat patiently, deciding to give his girlfriend a break for all the obvious hard work and thought she had put into the evening. He smiled at the thought of another surprise like the last one.
When she had completed all the necessary work, she snuck up behind Eric, enveloping him in her arms. She squeezed him tightly, planting a rather juicy kiss on his rosy cheeks. "You can open your eyes now, honey," she spoke softly, but with excitement. Wendy was sure she was going to make up for all her wrongs by creating "the mood."
Eric opened his eyes, revealing a plate of chicken potpie in front of him. The wine glass was a little above halfway with a deep red wine, and all of the candles had been lit, creating the only light to shine in the room. They were just dim enough so that shadows from the wine glasses danced on the deep lavender walls. He hugged Wendy's arms tightly from his sitting position. He was speechless at how romantic his girlfriend could be.
"I made your favorite," she noted, even though that had been pretty obvious to Eric. He had liked potpie since he was a young boy. "Its not much—I don't have a kitchen to slave away in, so its not made from scratch. But it's not entirely gross either. I did-"
"Wends, stop it," Eric demanded, swiveling himself around on the chair to face his beautiful girlfriend. "Its wonderful. Its all wonderful." He leaned up as she leaned down and pressed her lips against his. She was sitting on his lap now, his arms cradling her petite frame. He pulled away. "I love you. You make me so happy."
Wendy's smile extended from ear to ear. "Open the box," she instructed, nodding in its direction.
"What, is there like a bomb in there to blow me up or something? You can collect all the money from my death, I already put it in your name." Eric always had a way of ruining any possible romantic moment with his not-so-humorous wit.
Wendy was getting impatient. He was a kink in her perfect plan. "Eric!" she whined. "Just open it."
Sighing, he slowly picked his large hands off his girlfriend and grabbed the small, wrapped box. It seemed to fit in the palm of his hand. He brought it over to their laps, examining it for the wrapping job. "I don't see any flaws. Job well done, Wends," he announced. She did not want his approval.
"Just open the damn box!" she spoke with her words all shoved together to form one word. Patience was not her greatest virtue.
Eric eyed her suspiciously. "Alright, alright. Jeez, you'd think there really is a bomb in there."
"ERIC!" she shrieked.
He loved to give her a hard time. It was one of the things he loved about her. Being able to get her worked up over nothing. So that he would have something to calm her down for. It was his intent; he just never told her that. He smiled mischievously. "Alright, Wendy. I'll do as you ask." He knew that inside there would be some amazing, un-topable gift that would make him love her more—and make him feel like a bad boyfriend for not thinking of it first. He tore at the wrapping ferociously, not wanting to waste any more time. It was only fun to piss Wendy off to a point.
Eric flipped open the cardboard top to reveal Wendy's gift hidden below. He pulled out several small rectangles of paper, each cut the same way and stapled together at the corner.
"I know its not much, but we had to scrape up all the money we had to fly you here," she explained.
Eric didn't even have to know what it was. Anything homemade from her was always special. He flipped through the pages of her present with a thoughtful expression plastered all over his face. It wasn't confusion, but Wendy took it as so.
"It's a coupon book," she informed. She turned to face Eric's face, just inches away from his big brown eyes and pouty red lips. "Eric. I love you. I'm so sorry about reacting the way I did to Stan's…er…news. I don't know why I did it, I honestly have no feelings for him whatsoever."
"Ah, so this present is to get me to forgive and forget, eh, Wends?" Eric concluded. He smiled at her and squeezed her tightly.
"No! I mean, yes." She stuttered. Then she shook her head. Then she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening them once more, she looked into his eyes. "That is not what I meant. Eric. You need to know that you are the only guy I want to be with. This is my way of saying…thank you. You treat me so perfectly. And now its my turn to return the favor."
Eric's smile blossomed into a fully delighted expression. "Favor, you say?" Speedily flipping through the coupons, he searched out the perfect coupon for the moment. "One free back massage, very nice, very nice. Oooo, 2 hours of complaint-free video games! That's so awesome!" Nothing had caught his eye yet.
Wendy watched her boyfriend eagerly sift through to find something appropriately fitting for that moment. She knew he was going for one of the sexual ones. She tensed up with excitement, knowing which one he was probably going to pick. Good for one night of spine-tingling, incredibly hot sex. Yeah, she'd put that one in purposely.
Eric's pace through the pages slowed and his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, looking up at Wendy. "Ah, I found it," he noted, obviously proud of his pick.
She smirked at him, grabbing the piece of freshly torn paper out of his hands. She scanned it quickly, and looked back up at his face. Realizing there were words on that coupon that she hadn't expected, she did a double take, comprehending every single letter.
Present this ticket when desired for a romantic dinner, movie, and choice activity.
Wendy blinked, stunned at his romantic choice. She threw her arms around her boyfriend's neck, showering him with kisses. "Oh Eric!" she cried.
"So about that choice activity…" he started. Wendy pulled back.
"Can it be naked time?" Eric enthusiastically asked. Wendy's smile deepened as she resumed kissing her eager boyfriend.
---
Kenny's POV
Kyle gave me a call today. His voice was filled with excitement, and I know exactly what it was he was going to say.
He and Stan are coming home for the day. Stan is going to tell his parents that he is gay. I wish I could be around for that, but he has requested that Kyle and I chill somewhere else. No prob. I really feel so much closer to Kyle after these past few weeks.
I expect them back in a few hours, honestly. They are probably caught up, making out or fucking or doing whatever it is two guys do when they first discover their feelings for each other while the fatass is still away at Wendy's. Hell, I'd be making the most of it.
I have plenty of time before my day becomes solely Kyle/Stan focused. Now, for my dilemma…
This Stacy girl has me perplexed. The other day, I spied on her and her sister doing laundry in the basement. She must come here a lot. Like every weekend maybe? I wonder what college she goes to. I can't figure this one out—she's driving me crazy! I'm completely infatuated with her, and yet, she won't pay the slightest bit of attention to me. Is there something wrong with me? Did I do something wrong? I gave Kyle great love advice, why the hell can't I take my own?
Whoa, did I just say love? I meant relationship. NO! I meant…hot, hot action. Yeah.
Hell no I don't love her. I can't possibly love someone that doesn't even know I exist. That would be preposterous.
Still, I am entranced by this girl. I have to find out. I'm going to go see what's going on.
Damn it, walking down one flight of stairs has never been so grueling. Thank GOD there is Andrea's door. I'm not sure why I'm knocking so timidly. Maybe I am intimidated of this pint-sized girl? Nah, couldn't be.
"Hey Kenny!" Andrea cheerfully greets me, opening the door in a nearly see-through tank top and boy shorts. Damn, damn, DAMN this girl is hot.
"Uh, hey, Andrea," I reply nervously. Even I feel out of this chic's league. And I'm supposedly the king of the ladies. "Is Stacy here?"
She smiles at me with a somewhat naughty expression. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she is inviting me to come in with her eyes.
"No, she's not here this weekend," she returns, equally as bubbly as the statement before. "You know, she's not here every weekend."
She IS flirting with me! She just crooked her neck and gave me the sexiest look if I ever saw one. Damn, this girl is playing hardball. Two can play at that game.
"Oh yeah?" I say. Apparently, my hardballing skills don't work this early in the morning. Fuck the fact that is eleven o'clock.
Haha. She definitely just responded to my lame comment with, "yeah." She is really feisty. If she doesn't stop undressing me with her eyes, I'm going to have to resort to drastic measures.
"Do you want to come in?" she asks me, all angelic like. Like she doesn't know what I am thinking when she answers the door wearing that. I reply with a simple shrug of my shoulders. I was taught earlier in life that you don't want to seem too eager—it will turn the girls away. This tactic is something I've carried with me throughout my many, many, many girls and, to this day, it has not failed once. Except for Stacy.
Once we are inside, Andrea pushes me up against the door she just shut. "God damn, Kenny, you are hot. How have you not wandered into this part of the building earlier?" she breaths in my face. She is definitely almost five inches taller than me, and hovering over me like a hawk. I'm completely immobile. How does this always happen to me? Shit, I'm the luckiest bastard to ever roam this Earth.
She presses her body up against mine, feeling around my mouth with her tongue. She is not a bad kisser, but a little disappointing for the rest of the package. I feel a wandering hand reach around my backside, latching firmly onto my ass. What is it with girls and my ass? GOD!
I reach around and cop a feel myself, knowing full well what it looks like already. I've seen it so many times before in all the skimpy outfits she parades around in. And yeah, its one nice piece of ass. I move my hands northward, resting them around her waist. She pulls hers up to my face, cupping my face inside of them. She pulls away, breathless.
She backs a noticeable amount of steps away from me and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I know that I probably just freaked you out, but, I can't explain it. There is something about you." What? Freaked me out? Hell no! I loved it.
"Is everything okay?" I ask, quasi-concerned.
She shakes her head. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I'm really very emotional right now."
"Oh?" More caked on emotion.
She stumbles back a few steps and falls into the soft cushions of their living room couch. "Kenny, I'm a mess right now. I understand completely if you want to leave. Guys never want to hear about that shit."
"Fuck, I don't care," I reply honestly. "Who else are you going to tell?" I pull up a chair so that I'm facing her. Her legs are open and inviting. I strain to concentrate on her face, which looks near close to crying.
"You asked why Stacy isn't here. She didn't use to stay here. Its only been recently, since our parents passed away."
My eyes go wide. "Shit! I'm sorry." What the hell do you say to someone who just told you that?
Her expression mirrors my uncertainty. "Yeah. I wasn't really close to them anymore, but it still hurts a lot. But Stacy. Well, she needs someone with her most all the time. She has only been in school for a little over a month, and I hope she sticks with it. Its really hard because she doesn't fit in with her roommate, and she gets lonely on the weekends. So she comes here, even though I think she hates me too. She's pretty difficult to get along with."
"You don't say…" I agree, sarcastically.
She smiles weakly at me. "So, I guess when you came down and asked if she was here, to me it was saying you were glad she wasn't because I'm lonely too and I like you and there is never a time when she isn't here. I thought it was my opportunity."
I contemplate this newfound information. I did not see that coming. I didn't see any of this coming. Damn, girls are complicated. Maybe Kyle and Stan have the right idea. "So what happened?" I ask, trying my best to stay part of this one-sided conversation/breakdown. Her legs are still open to me. What is she saying?
"It just felt…off somehow. I don't know." She sighs heavily in exasperation with herself. Leaning back in her couch, she places a frustrated hand up to her face, and she crosses her legs.
I am unsure of what to do next. Do I console her? Do we make out? What should I do?
Without thinking, I situate myself next to her on the couch, extending my right arm up behind her shoulders. The way guys do when they are on dates and nervous to put their arm around a girl. Only I did it out of pure habit. Hot girl + necessary cuddling equals sex.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes one more time. Anymore apologizing, and this awkward moment has turned into a fleeing moment for Kenny. I'm not so good with comforting strange girls.
I don't have time to think about stuff like that, because she pulls my face to hers with her free hand and forces her lips against mine. Again. Damn, she is indecisive. I don't complain though. I rearrange my body on the couch so that she can face me. She pushes me over until I'm falling onto the seat cushions with my back.
HOLY FUCK she is straddling me now. Her kisses are short and all over the place, but I've got a raging hard on just from looking at her so its all good. Her hair tickles my nose, as it falls down around it. Something isn't right here…
"I told Stacy you'd be a good kisser," she murmurs, and my eyes snap open. Shit! Stacy! This whole time, and I've completely forgotten about her. The reason I came down here in the first place.
Andrea continues to kiss me, moaning inaudible phrases. I know I'm just going through the motions now, kissing her like she repulses me or something. She doesn't seem to notice. Or she doesn't care. Either way, her moans suddenly sound fake to me. She is very obviously overdramatic in her pleasure, and this is turning me off. She doesn't appeal to me like a 6-ft supermodel should. I have to get out of here.
I gently push her away. "Andrea, we probably shouldn't do this."
The look in her eyes are a mixture of hurt and confusion. I get off the couch and straighten out my matted T-shirt.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asks, pleadingly. How can a girl that hot even have a pleading voice?
"No," I reply truthfully. Truth is, I'm obsessed with your sister. Guess I shouldn't say that. "I just think we should be friends. We live in the same building together, it could get complicated, you know?"
"Kenny," she states my name and stands up, looming over me. "I'm not asking for a relationship with you. You are hot. I want to fuck your brains out."
I blink in disbelief. Did she really just say that!
She tries to take a step toward me, but I back away further. "Whoa. Andrea…I have to go." I say this in as graceful of tone as I can manage, as I'm so completely blown away by the bluntness of her statement. I exit without any further harassment.
---
"Kenny, you do realize what you did, right?" Stan asks me, with the look of amazement all over his face. We were all sitting around my living room at night after Stan had told his parents. Kyle and Stan were sitting on the same couch, staring intently at me, and my information I had just told them about Andrea earlier.
I look at him with confusion. "No?"
Kyle takes one look at Stan and busts out in man giggles. Stan does the same. They both slap their knees with the palms of their hands, as if I'd told them a really funny joke that they couldn't get enough of.
"Holy fuck, Kenny!" Kyle screams. "You turned down SEX!"
He and Stan cease the laughter and stare at me, waiting for his comments to sink in.
Wait for it…
Wait for it…
….
"WHAT?" I scream in disbelief. No I didn't! Did I?
Kyle shakes his head with enough force to dislodge his brain. "Yep," is his simple reply.
Stan cups his heart with his hands and sticks out his lower lip. "Aw, our little Kenneth is growing up!" He extends his arm to grab Kyle's shoulder, who in return busts out in laughter again.
"You guys!" I whine. "This is serious!" I realize what they are saying is true. I turned down sex! With an incredibly hot girl! "What is wrong with me?"
Stan stops laughing long enough to interject. "Ken, nothing's wrong with you. You actually may like this Stacy chic. You want to keep that option open, and you know fucking her sister wouldn't really do that."
Kyle nods his head in laughter. I'm kind of offended they think this is funny. At the same time, I'm in shock that they might actually be right. "Well shit," I say quietly to myself.
After they calm down, I take a look at my two best friends. They have been nonstop smiling since they walked through my door, Stan especially. He told us that everything went as expected at his house. His mother was supportive, saying that she had honestly wondered about the whole situation herself. His dad, as predicted, went on a redneck ignorant ranting rampage before Sharon could calm him down and Stan could get out of the house. Randy would be fine again in the morning. Kyle had pleaded with Stan to make his parents swear they would not tell his parents. He wasn't ready, and probably wouldn't be for a while.
That didn't stop him from allowing Stan to be all over him. I didn't care—I honestly kind of welcomed it. In a weird way, it turned me on. Yeah, yeah I know, pervert of South Park Kenny McCormick yada yada yada. But this is different. I watched them kiss out of the corner of my eye as I was ordering pizza from my phone, and I got all warm inside. They are so cute. Kyle still seems a bit awkward about the whole thing, but at least he's giving it a try. I think he'll find that he's just as in love with Stan as Stan is with Kyle.
Now, all but one piece of the pizza is gone, and my friends lay near each other on the couch. Its getting pretty late. I guess they'll be going back in the morning again, much like Kyle did the week before. Maybe we'll be able to see each other more often now that they know its not really that long of a drive between our two cities? I would like that.
I observe the two as Kyle picks up the last piece of pizza, takes a bite, and places a pepperoni on Stan's nose. Stan, overcome with joy that Kyle has at last returned his affections, snatches the gift up with his tongue, and shoves Kyle playfully. Kyle tilts a little to the left before gravitating back to his center stance. They give each other a warm smile, and Kyle continues to eat his piece of pizza.
"What do you guys want to do now?" I ask, to relieve the silence of the moment. They are cute, but I hate being ignored.
They both look at me in unison, as if I interrupted their little flirting session.
"Oh God!" I yell. "Maybe I should just leave. Leave you two to your business?"
Stan shakes his head. "No Kenny. Sorry. What do YOU want to do?" He mischievously looks at Kyle, who in return smiles deviously right back at him. I'll ignore them this time.
"We could play some Ultimate Fighting Champion III," I suggest, and point to my game system. Not quite as high-tech as Stan's, but worth every penny.
"We can do that!" they reply together. Damn, they may turn into one person if not careful.
"Alright. Sounds good," I say, and leave the couch just long enough to switch the power on and load the game.