Kyle lived for late afternoons like these. He returned home from school to find the house empty. There was a small note apologizing and explaining that his mom had taken Ike to run some errands and his father would be working late at the office. Inside the fridge was a pre-prepared meal with a sticky note attached with cooking instructions. A quiet house was rare for Kyle and he knew exactly how to take advantage of it.
Upstairs in his room, Bebe and him sat with their arms wrapped around each other and leaning against the wooden bed frame. This was Kyle's favorite pastime. Laughing and talking with Bebe and then without much preemption or explanation needed, they'd start sucking face.
Sometimes, it was a light peck and those made his heart flutter like a dirty secret being whispered only to him. Other times, it was hot and heavy and those he felt his whole body lose itself, like an out of body experience. There had only been a few times they had gone all the way. Each time had been as exciting and nerve-wracking as the next.
Kyle recalled the first time being in the back of Stan's pickup truck. He had borrowed it and driven Bebe to an open field. Using an old blanket. he created a small picnic underneath a canopy of stars. After they had finished a bottle of cheap wine and a home-cooked meal from Kyle, they used the blanket and truck bed to celebrate more than just the stars that night. Later, Kyle lied and blamed Cartman for the reason why the back of his truck doesn't close properly.
Now it was another fury of passion, each's fingers tangled and locked in yellow and red curls. The muscles of their tongues massaging each other with soft pleasurable moans. Kyle's hand slipped down, cupping her breast and she made a sound of approval. Above the red cotton, he kneaded for a bit before slipping his hand underneath and searching for the clasp of bra.
Pulling away, Bebe looked at Kyle watching her with lust-filled eyes. "You're sure your parents won't be home?" she asked breathlessly.
Kyle nodded, smashing his lips to her again and she returned with equaled frenzy. It continued for awhile, the removal of their clothing pausing just so they kiss. They had all night.
"Um, Kyle," Bebe said hesitantly. Kyle hummed, guessing she was going to ask if he remembered to pick up condoms. He kissed along her jawline up to her earlobe. Nudging him on the shoulder, she pulled away and Kyle looked up worried.
"What's up?" he asked gently. Bebe didn't respond but pointed behind the redhead. Turning his head around, Kyle could see Stan hovering outside his window, dressed in a matching green leotard and green tights with what looked to be fake leaves glued on. Heaving a deep sigh, he turned back to Bebe.
"Ignore him, maybe he'll go away," he whispered, attempting to kiss her again, but Bebe shook her head. "Maybe he can't see us, if we stay absolutely still."
"Kyle," she said warningly and the redhead pouted. Why of all nights did Stan choose this one to fly outside his window? He had grown used to this and always had an "open-window" policy but fate just wanted to be cruel.
"Fine," he groaned, getting off the bed and making his way to the window. Opening it up, Stan continued to move his arms with a breaststroke motion, his feet kicking furiously in place.
"Are you gonna come in?" Kyle asked annoyed, but seeing the look of despair on his best friend's face, Kyle's demeanor calmed. "You okay, dude?"
Stan flew through the window past Kyle and sat down in his desk chair.
"Stan, did something happen?" Bebe asked as Kyle took a seat next to her. "Did-did you and Craig fight?"
Stan sighed, shaking his head. "No, no, we're fine." He looked around the room, observing all the old things from their childhood and all the new stuff Kyle had collected with time. Most were academic achievements and a few basketball trophies. Again, he sighed. Kyle had achieved those with pure athletic talent. He didn't have a freak disease.
"I don't know what to do anymore," he whispered.
"With what?" he asked. The only time he had seen Stan like this was when he was sure Craig might leave him for Tweek. He waited while Stan gnawed at his lip and scowled at the floor.
"These powers I have. This stupid fucking infliction!" he finally yelled, shaking his arms as if to throw them off. "I'm tired of it and I want it out of me!"
Bebe and Kyle glanced at each other; neither quite sure what to say next. Leaning forward, Bebe bit her lip before carefully asking "Stan, did something happen?"
"Yes, I'm a fucking freak. That's what happened," he snapped, rolling his eyes. Bebe frowned and Stan sighed.
"Sorry," he mumbled ashamedly at the look both Bebe and Kyle were giving him.
"Stan, what's wrong, dude?" Kyle asked again. "If you need to vent, feel free, but if something happened, we need to know."
"Mackey is threatening to kick me off the play because I set the stage on fire and caused Red to break her leg," Stan explained.
"Oh Stan, it's just a stupid play. Craig even told us how insane Mackey is with this stuff. We can find a different club," Bebe assured him.
Stan shook his head. "It's not just that. He said something. He said I have no control over it and we all know he's right. Look what happened to Kenny at lunch or the times I've set Tweek on fire," the corner of Kyle's lips twitched for a second. "The only reason Red got injured was because Mackey was yelling at me to perform better. What happens in the real world when someone is being a douche? I am just going cause a fire or a building to collapse?"
"Stan, have you ever tried to get them under control?" Bebe asked and Stan frowned at the question.
"When Satan told you, did you ask for lessons or advice or anything?" Kyle added.
"No, I just accepted it," he answered with a shrug. "They were never really a huge problem. A minor annoyance here and there, but nothing I thought I needed to ask help for."
The couple looked at each other, trying to communicate silently what they both thought was a possibility to Stan's problem. Kyle leaned forward kissing Bebe on the cheek. Stan's distraught face looked between the two, wondering if him and Craig were this in synch. He could barely get Craig to remember his asthma medication when he texted him a reminder three times.
"I can't ask Satan for help," Stan said, catching onto what Bebe and Kyle were going to suggest. "He's way too busy and besides, so am I."
"True, but there has to be someone or someway you can at least learn, " Bebe said.
The room barely fell into a second of silence when Kyle let out an excited gasp and a dawn of comprehension came over the redhead.
"What?" Stan asked, startled.
"How did we not think of him before?" Kyle asked astonished and this time it was Bebe and Stan's turn to stare, baffled at each other. "I mean we'd have to convince him first, but once we do, he'd be perfect."
"Well, I'm sure whoever he is, he's a lovely person. Someone anyone's grandmother would be delighted to invite to afternoon tea, but I can't really send him an invite without knowing his name," Stan quipped sarcastically.
"I'm talking about Damien," Kyle said earnestly.
"Kenny's boyfriend?" Stan said and Kyle nodded.
"It's perfect actually," Bebe acknowledged. "Who better than Satan's own son."
"Exactly," Kyle said.
Stan nodded slowly. Kyle had a point. Damien would be the perfect person, but he and the Anti-Christ were never on close terms. Plus, Stan was sure Damien held some animosity towards him when Satan choose him in the battle against the Canadian Devil. Stan inwardly scoffed.
"We'd have to find some way to convince him," he said. "I doubt he'd just agree to it."
Bebe shrugged. "We've got Kenny and that'll be enough."
Both Bebe and Kyle were smiling reassuringly back at him and he couldn't help but return it. His problem wasn't solved and for all he knew it may never be. However, he certainly was taking a step in the right direction towards an easier and more controlled life. He stood up from the chair and Bebe and Kyle got up from the bed as well.
"Out of curiosity, did the play change to Peter Pan?" Bebe said gesturing to the odd outfit Stan was wearing.
"What?" he said confused before chuckling softly. "Oh no, Craig and I were roleplaying. I was Peter Pan and he was Captain Hook. He's tied up back—"
Kyle held up his hand. "Please, as your best friend, I beg you never finish that sentence."
With a smirk and Kyle's plea falling on deaf ears, Stan lifted into the air and flew straight out of the window. The pair leaned out the frame, watching Stan soar across the pink and golden sky until disappeared past a grove of limber pine trees.
"Bubbeleh are you upstairs?!"
A/N: I can't explain why my friends and I find Stan flying so funny but we do. This story pretty much started as a result of us having some whiskey and joking about Stan flying.