Wooo sorry for the long delay this time! My photoshop crapped out and I have been rampaging and hysterical all week trying to get it back. Grrr but it's all good now!

This chapter is nothing special, basically just building relationships. This is the fourth last, as in there will be three more.

Oh! And thank you guys for carrying me to over 100+ reviews! You rock my world!

Oh! And because I promised.

Everyone. This is HIGHLY important.

Go check out Fainted.Tears.' fic My Angel, Your Devil right now. Because it is seriously awesome and she needs more reviews! Go do it! NOW!

Chapter 13 – The Gift of Flight - KSKPOV (Kyle/Stan/Kyle – confusing much?)

I went home that night feeling disappointed, annoyed and elated all at once. I was disappointed that I wouldn't get to see Stan for over two days (I mean, we're only home for like two weeks, there's only like four or five days left of vacation as it is!). I was annoyed with Mandy and a little bit with Stan's parents for interrupting us, but hey, it was their house, wasn't it? Lastly, I was elated because… well, speaks for itself.

But Mandy. Who the hell did she think she was? I mean, I know she didn't interrupt us on purpose. Actually, I'm not too sure. I bet she was spying on Stan just to break us up at the most opportune moment. She probably had a wireless device that beeped whenever Stan got within a foot of another human being. That would explain why she constantly thought Stan was cheating on her.

Actually, that possibility was totally stupid. Wow. I should listen to myself speak. Or think. I'm SURE Mandy didn't call right then on purpose. I'm pretty sure. And who am I to complain? I was the one with Stan then, not HER. I refuse to let myself to become the jealous male version of Mandy. I would sooner smash my own head in with a shovel.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder what she said to Stan that made him feel the need to ask me for help. She was probably just bitching him out again, pissed off about the breakup.

Still, I was a bit of a jackass to her. I mean, sure she was been a total pain in the ass, according to Stan, especially during their last month, but still. I think I might have taken it a bit too far.

Nah. She totally deserved what she got.

But somehow, I couldn't shake the thought that somewhere Mandy was scrunched up tight in her bedroom, crying her eyes out at the loss of Stan. I couldn't blame her, I mean, Stan was really a one-in-a-million type of guy. Or maybe that's just his best friend talking.

That tiny prick of guilt wouldn't go away, so I turned on my computer, and googled 'apology ecards'. Next, I opened up MSN and logged into Stan's account. He didn't know that I've known his password for years. I scrolled down his list, finally deciding that if 'Mandy – Fuck you Stan wasn't her, then no one was.

I finally selected some lame card that said 'I'm sorry,' handwritten in purple. It also had several pink bunnies hopping around. If that didn't scream girl, I didn't know what did.

Now, for the personal touch.

Sorry for being a jackass. I'm sure you'll find someone else.

Love Kyle

Short and sweet.

The only hesitation I had was that she would now know my email address, I hoped she wouldn't get too pissed and start spamming my account or sending me viruses or something.

As I felt my guilt start to fade away, I realized that I had totally forgotten that our grades were up today. I felt my stomach clench in anticipation as I logged into the Harvard system. I sent out a small prayer that I would at least have a decent average.

I took one look at the screen, and my jaw dropped.

My parents are going to kill me.

---

"86."

"What?"

I stared blankly at my cell phone for a moment, before placing it back to my ear.

"I said 86."

"I heard what you said Kyle, what the hell is 86?" He sounded upset or pissed off or something.

"My average. My parents are going to roast me. I just called to say that it was nice knowing you."

My brain processed each sentence individually. "86? At Harvard? In your first year? That is so fucking incredible, Kyle!"

"I'm dead."

"You're not dead, Kyle. That is so kickass! I'm sure your parents will be happy."

"Don't look for me – you won't find the body."

"Kyle, SERIOUSLY. That is fucking amazing!"

"Maybe I should just end my life myself – make it less painful."

"KYLE!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But I can't stop thinking about the last thing my mom said to me before I left for Harvard. She said – " He paused for a moment. "You better keep at the minimum a ninety average, or don't bother coming home. She was just joking. I think."

"Dude, your mom wouldn't throw her only biological child out of the house."

"But still – oh man Stan, I'm going to have to tell her eventually. She'll break both my legs and tear out my liver. You can't LIVE WITHOUT YOUR LIVER STAN!"

Hysterical Kyle always equaled irrational Kyle. "She's not going to tear out your liver Kyle! You're making this a way bigger deal than it really is."

I heard a gasp on the other end of the line. "I just remembered something! Do you know what she said last night?"

Fine. I'll humour him. "What did she say?"

"She said she's been wanting to try cooking liver, Stan! LIVER!" I could almost picture him running around screaming, flailing his arms. I couldn't help but snicker.

"I think you don't understand the scale of my problem, Stan. YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOUR LIVER!"

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.

"Oh, so you think this is funny do you? How funny will it be when you find me dead in my room with my liver cut out? Huh?" The funniest part was that he was being dead serious.

I tried to recollect myself. "Kyle, what is with your obsession with livers? Your mom is not going to cut yours out, so chill!"

"I don't have an obsession with livers. My mom does! She's going to cut it out and feed it to Dad and Ike, then send some off to her friends!"

I scrunched my nose. "Ew, that is so sick. You're going to make me barf."

"You know what WILL make you barf? Finding my bloody dead body."

"Kyle. Time to calm down. Your mom will not cut out your liver. She'll have to get through me first."

"Don't think she won't cut yours out too Stan."

"Nah, I'm too speedy for her. You have nothing to be worried about. Your mom probably even forgot she said that, and will laugh at how dumb you're being."

Kyle hesitated. "You think?"

"Yes."

"She won't throw me out?"

"I highly doubt it," I told him.

"And she won't cut out my liver?"

I laughed again. "Dude, she will not cut out your liver! Enough with that!"

"You promise?"

"Yes Kyle, I promise your mother will NOT cut out your liver." A woman walking by gave me a strange look.

"But if she tries…"

I changed my voice to impersonate Cartman. "Then I will personally kick her squah, in the nuts. Seriouslah."

This evoked a laugh from Kyle. "Alright Stan, thanks a lot."

I tried my best to do a deep German accent. "Not a problem, my beautiful little buttercup. And if she does try to kick you out, you can always come over to my place, and we can be loving all the night."

Kyle burst out laughing on the other end, and I immediately felt relieved that he wasn't freaking out anymore.

"Dude, what the hell is up with the accent? And don't you ever call me that again, or I'll kill you!"

I now went for a French accent. "But why not? Ees such pretty fleur. Mon leetle fleur. Mon belle buttercup."

He laughed again. "Fuck you. I'm hanging up."

"Buttercup," I say. I hear Kyle make an exasperated noise then a click, as the line goes dead. I smile, feeling very pleased with myself. I walk back to grandpa's room at the senior's residence, and my mother scolds me for taking so long on the phone, to which I reply with a beaming smile. She looks taken aback by this, but says nothing.

"What the hell are you so goddamned happy about Billy? You look like you just got laid!" I hear grandpa say.

Talking to Kyle is way better than getting laid by any chick, grandpa.

I smiled at grandpa, making him glower even more. "I'm not happy about anything, grandpa. In fact, I'm perfectly miserable."

---

I didn't hear from Kyle at all the next day, making me worry irrationally that maybe Kyle's mother really DID cut out his liver. I tried to rationalize with myself, saying that it was his family reunion after all, and he was probably just too busy to call me. Still, I couldn't shake that mild fear in the back of my mind completely.

It was 11 am the next day, and I was still in bed, when my cell phone went off. It woke me up actually, and I groaned as I reached over to my desk to answer it, hoping for Kyle.

"Hlphlo?" I made a strange noise into the phone.

"…Stan?"

"Yuh, whu?" I replied while yawning. "Sorry man, you just woke me up."

"Well good, because we're going."

My mind still wasn't fully aware. "Going where?"

"Sledding, you douche. I can't stay in this house another second or else I'm going to explode." It was at this point that I realized Kyle sounded really angry about something.

"Kyle, is everything all right?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Everything's alright. Everything's fucking WONDERFUL," he said sarcastically. "Can I come over?"

"Yeah sure man. I'm up," I said, growing increasingly concerned. I wondered if this had anything to do with his grades. I'm telling you, Kyle's hard enough on himself without worrying about his parents too. I hung up the phone, and proceeded to rush around my room, trying to collect clothes and take the world's fastest shower, again. Kyle's house was ridiculously close to mine, which would mean that I would have approximately two minutes to do everything.

I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the doorbell ring. I cursed as I wrapped a towel around my lower half and dashed to the front door. Kyle was there, of course. He looked like he was either ready to kill, scream, or seizure, maybe all three. He was even visibly shaking, a little.

"Holy shit Kyle, what the hell happened to you?" I exclaimed.

"My parents happened," he stated so calmly it was frightening. "My stupid goddamn parents can't just EVER be happy for me. Whatever I do, it's NEVER good enough for them! Do you have an IDEA how fucking frustrating that is?"

Wordlessly, I wrapped my arms around Kyle and pulled him close, not caring if I got him wet. I heard him scream a little into my shoulder, and I held him tighter. I kissed his head, and when he pulled back I caught his mouth, determined to make him forget about his parents.

Unfortunately, doing this made me forget about the fact that I was holding my towel up with one hand. Being as both my arms were completely wrapped around Kyle, the only thing keeping my towel from completely exposing my frontside was the pressure between mine and Kyle's bodies.

My backside, however was completely exposed. And luckily for me, I was standing with my back to a mirror. Kyle saw this, and a hint of a smile traced along his features.

"Nice ass," he commented. I gasped in horror, then quickly pulled my towel back up around me, releasing Kyle in the process.

"Dude, I'll be back in literally thirty seconds," I said, trying to fight the blush creeping along my face. "I'll be right back."

I ran back to my room, throwing on the first pair of clothes I saw, then raced back downstairs, not about to leave my potential boyfriend alone like this.

"Thirty-six seconds," he said when I returned, mockingly shaking his head at me. His front was slightly damp. I led him over to THE couch once more, and sat him down beside me. He put his head down on my shoulder and sighed loudly, closing his eyes. I responded by snaking an arm around his waist.

"So what exactly happened?" I asked him, curious.

"I didn't want to ruin the family reunion so I waited until today to tell them, about an hour ago," he started. "At the same time, because I thought maybe my mom would be less angry if my dad was there too." I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Long story short, she pretty much blew up and started yelling and screaming at me, about how I haven't been working hard enough-"I gasped at this. Mrs. Broflovski had no idea how hard her son worked. "-and how I was going to end up being a drop-out failure, and that I was wasting their money on my education. But I mean Stan, this isn't high school anymore, you know? I can't keep my 97 average anymore. I mean, an 86 is so far from failing, and I'm still in the top half of Harvard students-"

I interrupted him. "Kyle, you are nowhere close to failing. It is so amazingly incredible that you have kept such a high average at one of the most prestigious schools in the country. I mean, look at me! I have like a 78 average at university! Your parents have nothing to be complaining about."

He smiled a little, then frowned. "That's really good, Stan. I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel bad."

"You're not," I said quickly. "Go on."

Kyle sighed again. "I just don't know anymore. I mean, Harvard's great in the sense that everyone always knows what you're talking about, but I seriously think the stress of it all is going to kill me. I – I want to sleep more than two nights a week, Stan. I want to be able to wake up after six hours and say 'Wow. I just had a great sleep, and now I'm ready to work the day. Not 'Wow. I just managed to sneak in a half hour nap between classes, and now I'm ready to write a 500 page essay.'" He sounded on the verge of tears, and that scared me. The last time I remember seeing Kyle cry was in the seventh grade when I got hit in the head with a baseball and got completely knocked out. He had thought I was dead.

I turned sideways on the couch to hold him properly, and he fell against me, muttering something. I rubbed his back, telling him it was going to be okay, but he shook his head.

"No, Stan. It's not going to be okay. I don't know how much more I can take of this place. I'm not cut out for it. I-" he hesitated a moment. "-I don't even know if I want to be a lawyer anymore."

I hadn't heard him say that before. "Then don't," I told him. "Find something else to do."

He snorted into me. "Yeah, right. My parents really would throw me out of the house if I did that."

"Kyle, you have to stop worrying so much about how your parents are going to react. I mean, it's you stuck with the job for the rest of your life, not them."

Kyle nodded a little. "You're right. It's just that -well, if they cut me off financially, I mean, my dad makes too much for me to be applicable for a loan. If they cut me off, I am so utterly fucked."

"You're not fucked, Kyle. You never will be." I just realized how strange that sounded.

"And thank you for condemning my love life too," he said, trying to make a joke. I laughed a little, then kissed his head.

"Okay, well maybe just fucked in the financial sense then," I said.

"Mmm," he murmured into me.

"I want you to be my boyfriend," I randomnly burst out with. I clapped my hand over my mouth the moment I said it. The last thing I wanted to do right now was alienate Kyle.

He looked up at me, his eyes shining a little. "Really?"

There was no point denying it now. I prayed for the best. "Really," I responded weakly, fighting the urge to vomit once again.

Kyle pondered this for a moment, then smiled wide. "On one condition."

"Being?" I asked.

"Being that you have to be my boyfriend too," he responded, still smiling. I grinned at him, feeling my heart soar. I grabbed him by the waist and fell backwards on the couch, Kyle on top of me. He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his face into my sweater. There were no words to explain what I was feeling right then.

Love maybe?

I think I love you Kyle.

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him back. After a few moments, I remembered our original plans for the day.

"You still up for sledding?" I asked him.

Kyle took his face out of my sweater just long enough to grin at me.

"Fuck yeah," he said.

---

Phil Collins Hill was not far from our houses, which is why we often went sledding there as kids. After going through Stan's entire garage, we finally managed to find an old beat up sled that used to fit the four of us (Stan, me, Cartman, Kenny). I doubted it would fit both of us now, but whatever. As we all started getting older, we started building moguls into the side of the hill as well as several other objects, changing the hill into more of an obstacle course. One year, it was even my brilliant idea to build a wooden ramp into its side, and it was the hit of the year. It may even still be there.

So, as you can imagine, Phil Collins hill was quite transformed, and had several newer names. I called it 'break-neck mountain,' Stan called it 'flying through the air until you land somewhere, breaking your neck', Kenny called it 'the place where I broke my neck several times,' and Cartman called it "The flying Hitler."

So it would be safe to say that the hill had a bit of a reputation.

Me and Stan walked there, dragging two beat up old sleds behind us. It took us approximately 13 minutes. By then, the clear air had done me some good, and I had nearly forgotten that I had given myself a headache from being so pissed just a short while ago.

Heh. Stan wants me to be his boyfriend. I grin to myself, and Stan looks at me curiously.

"What?" he says, suspicious.

"Nothing, "I reply, grinning wider. Goddamn I suck. Stan says nothing more, but by the way he's looking at me, I think he knows.

When we get there, I laugh at how little it's changed. The moguls and bumps we created in the dirt remained, and my old wooden ramp was still there. There are a few other people there, mostly preteen girls. One kind of reminds me of the kinder tramp at the mall, because her ass crack is hanging out of her jeans.

Pull them up, I try to tell her through telekinesis, and surprisingly enough, she does. I snicker, and Stan looks at me confused again.

"Just flexing my psychic powers," I inform him.

"Right," Stan says as he starts to make his way to the top. I take a glance at the hill, and snort.

"Stan, look over there," I say to him gesturing at two boys who were at that very moment, sledding down the hill. I was able to make out a blur of brown hair and a blue hat.

"Dude… is that Craig and Clyde?"

"It totally is," I say, smirking as they hit a mogul and make about three feet of air.

"Those two are so gay for each other," Stan states. I turn around, and raise an eyebrow at him.

"So that would make us…" I say, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

"Yeah… but… well, STILL! Just look at them!" Stan sputters. "And stop raising your eyebrow! Do you want me to jump you right here?"

"Depending," I say, smirking. "You have the weirdest turn-ons since Towelie fell in love with a vacuum cleaner."

"Hey! That was TOTALLY weirder!" Stan exclaims, defending himself.

"Not by much," I inform him as we near the top of the hill. I notice Kenny is also there, along with some girl. As we get closer, I notice her to be the girl that I mentally told to hike her pants up. Kenny sees us and waves.

"Yo dudes!" He yells, beckoning us over.

"What are you doing here?" Stan yells.

"Yeah, I don't think your girlfriend will appreciate getting blood and guts all over herself!" I chime in.

"She's not my girlfriend," Kenny states as we get closer. "She's my cousin." The girl has blonde hair and is wearing way too much makeup to be going sledding. She giggles at us.

"I'm Tallulah," she introduces herself, winking at both Stan and I. Judging by her crack and makeup and flirty-ness, I'd say she's just as much of a slut as Kenny is.

"And, I've been on a winning streak lately," Kenny informs us, beaming. "Haven't died for a full two weeks now."

"That has to be some kind of record," I state, and Stan agrees.

Just then, I hear a loud screech coming from halfway down the hill, and I notice that there is a congregation of about ten girls and two guys, who are throwing snowballs at the girls. The are screeching unnecessarily loud, whining about getting there clothes wet. Um, hello? It's SNOW.

I see Stan look at the girls in a similar manner, and I smirk as an idea crosses my mind.

"I think these people need to learn that these hills are for sledding, not holding group meetings," I inform Stan.

He nods at me. "So what's the plan?"

I set my sled down on the ground. "We, my friend, are going sledding. I'll get the girls, you take care of the guys." Stan smirks at me and nods.

"Wait, what are you guys doing?" Kenny asks us.

"Watch and see," Stan responds. We sit down on our respective sleds.

"On the count of three," I say.

"One…two…" Stan says.

"Three," I reply, and we both push off, picking up as much speed as we can. They see us coming, and the girls scream and scatter. The guys do similar. I narrowly miss one girl, and it seemed like I was about to hit another dead-on until one of her friends decided to be a hero, and jumped and pushed her out of the way. They both landed in the snow beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a guy lunge out of the way to avoid Stan.

That's when I noticed that they were standing on a huge bump.

Oh shit, I thought as I hit it dead on. I felt a bone-jarring thud, and then I was airborne. I was sailing until the sled flipped me off. I landed on my stomach about ten feet away from the girls with an oomph. Stan was about twenty feet away and had landed flat on his ass. He was turned completely backwards, his feet facing towards the top of the hill.

"Oh man! The look on their faces!" he shouted at me, gesturing towards the disturbed party. I turned to see. Three girls were moaning, and the others were clustered around them, pulling them back up and helping them to brush the snow off. The two guys were yelling at us and one flipped us off with both hands.

"Oh noooo," one girl moaned. "I've got snow all down my back!" It was then that I realized that I too, had snow in just about every crevice possible, and I laughed as I stood up, shaking myself off.

Stan came stumbling over towards me. "Oh man, that was priceless," he said, still laughing. "Come here, you have snow all in your hair." He proceeded to ruffle the snow out of my hair, ending it with an unnecessary slap on the head.

"You asshole!" I shout playfully at him, smacking his head back. He laughed at me, and tried to smack me again, but I blocked it, and got him again instead.

"Fuck you," he laughs out as he repeatedly tries to smack me, only getting me about half the time. The other half I am smacking him instead. It ends in a sort of smacking war, and it ends with Stan giving up and tackling me by the legs, taking us both on the ground. We both lie there laughing until our victims decide to take their revenge by dumping a shitload of snow on our faces and shoving it down our necks. As we both struggle to breathe and sit upright, I hear them laughing at us. I would have been angry if Stan hadn't stumbled into me from behind, sending us back down to the ground. This results in another round of laughter. When we finally get back to the top of the hill, Kenny and Tallulah had already gone down and come back up again.

"Oh man, you guys, that was brilliant," Kenny informed us. "Those girls – I mean, they just scattered like SHEEP!"

Tallulah pouted. "I thought it was mean," she told us.

"Pffft. They deserved it," I informed her, and she pouted even more.

"Hey Craig! Hey Clyde!" I hear Stan shouting at two figures not far from us. The Craig figure flips us off.

"Now, that wasn't very nice," Stan said. "Are we going to let them get away with that?"

"I think not," I respond. "Let's take one this time – we'll go faster. They won't even see us coming this time."

Stan grins at me. "Killer." Stan climbs on his toboggan first, and I somehow manage to get on the end. I wrap my legs around Stan's sides, and my arms around his waist. I almost start running my hands up and down his chest, but somehow manage to resist.

"Oh, aren't you two just the cutest things?" Kenny says with a lisp.

"Hey! Fuck you!" Stan says, narrowing his eyes at Kenny.

"Aw, sticking up for your boyfriend. That's so sweet," he continues on. Tallulah looks confused.

"Are you two a couple or something?" She asks us.

Craig and Clyde save us from answering that question by pushing off of the side of the hill.

"Gogogo!" I shout as I start pushing our own sled off the side. We fall closely in behind them. They make it all the way to the bottom in one piece, coming to a peaceful stop.

That is, until Stan and I come barreling into them from behind. Their sled goes flying along with all four of us.

"Holy fuck!" I hear Craig yell out in surprise. I am laughing before I even land. Then I do land, and lucky for me, I smack my left hand lightly against the ground and I suck in a breath. And then I start laughing again. I stand up quickly, preparing to make a run for it, until Clyde comes up from behind me and pushes me back down.

"What the fuck was that?" He yelled at me angrily, but I find I cannot respond as I am laughing too hard. He draws his leg back, as if about to kick me –

Until I see an orange-blond blur fly right by me, slamming into Clyde, sending him flying. Kenny is flung off of his sled into the snow beside him, and wastes no time hoisting Craig off of Stan, who was sitting on his back holding his face in the snow. He then pulls me up by my good hand, and the three of us make a run for it. I realize that I am still laughing, and haven't stopped even after we reached the top of the hill again. I fall to my knees and clutch my stomach, which aches from laughing.

"Holy shit Kyle, what the hell is wrong with you?" Kenny asks me.

"I-asg – fpg – ga-" I say, finding myself unable to stop.

"They're coming after us!" Stan exclaims, gesturing at two figures now halfway up the hill.

"I'm thinking we're all only going to get one more run in," Kenny says. "Let's go off the ramp, and then the second we reach the bottom, we all make a run for it."

"Definitely," Stan agrees. Tallulah climbs on the sled, followed by Kenny.

"Come on!" Stan urges me, but I really, honestly, truly cannot stop laughing. I feel like such an idiot, but still I can't make myself stop. My stomach feels like a thousand daggers have plunged into it, and I try to gasp for breath.

"Kyle, seriously, they're coming for us!" Stan says urgently. I can't stand up due to lack of oxygen. I think I might die.

Stan looks hesitant, then leans in and kisses me, and suddenly everything stops being funny. I am brought back to reality as I see Craig and Clyde near the top of the hill. Stan helps me up as Kenny shouts triumphantly 'Hah! I knew it!' Stan shoves me on the sled, then climbs on behind me and gives the sled a forceful shove with Craig and Clyde only about ten feet away. As we hit the wooden ramp, Kenny somehow gets sprung off of it, flies through the air and lands headfirst on a pointed rock, spraying us all with blood. The other three of us somehow manage to stay on the sled. "Aw sick!" I hear Stan shout in horror, and Tallulah screams. When we get to the bottom, Stan grabs my hand and yanks me up hard, and then we ditch our sleds and run. I look over my shoulder and see Craig and Clyde coming back down after us on their sled.

"Shit!" I shout out, and we start running faster. We run holding hands all the way back to Stan's house, where we rush in and lock the door behind us as fast as possible. I gasp for air and collapse on the ground, and Stan does the same. We sit there breathing for a few moments, and then I am laughing again, because I picture Craig and Clyde chasing us the whole way back.

Stan stops my laughter again in a much similar fashion as before. Only now I am aware that we are both soaking wet, and my sticky clothes cling to my skin. I turn my head away to speak. Stan responds by moving to my neck. He seems to like my neck a lot.

"Stan, seriously, I'm all wet," I complain. He ignores me. "Stan… really…oh God," I hear myself say as I feel him move down my neck. My body is tingling again.

"STAN!" I finally manage to pull his head off of my neck. "Seriously. We're all wet." My boyfriend pulls me up, wordlessly tearing my coat off of me and flinging it to the floor, and I do the same with his, kicking my boots into a corner. He then returns to my neck, and as I can feel the pleasure from it passing through my whole body, my knees buckle, and I fall into him, clutching his wet shirt. I think Stan says something like 'woah, there' and he wraps his arms around me to catch me.

"Stan… your parents," I say weakly.

"Not home," he gasps out before consuming my mouth with his own. A moan laced with desire escapes me, and I lose all control over my feet completely. Stan is all that is keeping me from falling to the floor. He half-drags me over to the stairs, and when he realizes that there is no way that I would be able to walk on my own, he picks me up much as how he did at the movie theatre. He carries me up the stairs and into his room, dropping me on his bed. And then he is right back with me, smirking a little.

"So you're wet eh? Well let's just get these wet clothes off of you," he says, his voice so sexy that I want to tear my clothes off myself. He grabs the bottom of my sweater and yanks it up over my head. My shirt underneath catches and comes off along with it. Then my glasses catch and they're gone too. One movement and I am half naked in front of Stan. He kisses my chest in several places, and my eyes flutter closed. I slowly trace my fingertips down to the bottom of his shirt, and I pull it slowly off of him. He lets himself fall on top of me, and the sensation of his naked chest against my own alone is enough to induce a long string of moans from within myself, which sets Stan off. He raises himself back to my lips and kisses me deeply while I explore his back with my hands.

I think I love you Stan.

We proceed to make out and explore each other's naked torsos until we can't feel our faces and hands anymore.