Title: A Lifetime of Style
Disclaimer: I do not "own" South Park or any of its characters. The lucky bastards Trey Parker and Matt Stone do, however. I only own this plot idea.
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Chapter 11: Passion
Stan and Kyle go to a wild party at a fraternity house on the Friday night after December finals are over. Kyle's friend from econometrics is best friends with the vice president of the fraternity, which worked out in his and Stan's favor. They're into the mood of the party, completely intoxicated by the endless dancing and the mood of their being together.
Around midnight, Stan decides he's bored and tells Kyle he wants to go home. Kyle is a bit ambivalent at first, until Stan grabs Kyle's crotch and purrs "Take me home." Kyle could tell by his actions, his tone of voice, and his facial expressions that there's something that he has up his sleeve. They leave anyway.
They arrive back giggling like they're drunk (even though pop is the strongest thing they drank), their arms around each other's shoulders. Stan shuts and locks the door of the dorm room, and then he slams Kyle into the wall, kissing him passionately. Coats, scarves, hats, gloves, shoes, socks, shirts, pants, belts, and underwear are strewn throughout the room as they continue their endless makeout session, falling onto Stan's bed.
Stan pulls a small plastic packet out of his nightstand and places it into the palm of Kyle's hand.
"Oh," Kyle said, realizing what Stan wants. He pulls back from Stan and sits up. "That is what you meant by 'Take me home.' I thought we'd maybe-" he trails off by making an "o" shape with his mouth and proceeding to move his head up and down. He turns crimson, realizing the crude nature of his gesture.
Stan pants, blushing also. "S-sorry, Kyle. I thought, well, we don't have to," he says, gently stroking Kyle's cheek. "If you don't want to-"
"I never said I didn't want to. I was just wondering if we should discuss things first. You know, like who's gon-"
Stan sits up as well, interrupting Kyle with a kiss.
"I love you, Kyle," Stan says, embracing his boyfriend and super best friend.
"I love you too, Stan."
"If you aren't ready, we can wait as long as you want."
Kyle doesn't respond for about a minute, catching his breath with their foreheads pressed together.
"Okay…I'm ready. Let's do this."
Stan smiles, lying back down and caressing Kyle's toned torso. Kyle reaches into the nightstand and finds another small packet. He places it in the palm of Stan's hand.
"Uh, Kye?" Stan asks, confused.
"That's for when it's your turn," the ginger Jew winks at his raven-haired lover.
Kyle opens the package in his hand and slips the rubber item on. He gets a bottle out of the drawer and spreads its cold, gel contents over his and between Stan's legs. Kyle kisses him again, repositions himself, and looks into Stan's eyes. He realizes that Stan's lost puppy look is gone.
Stan is naked underneath Kyle, looking into his eyes with love, passion, and complete trust.
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Author's Note: Sorry to disappoint my fellow Style shippers, but this chapter didn't have smut. Nor will any of the future chapters which mentions sex between our two favorite characters. This is meant to be more of a coming of age and growing old fic. And yes, I'm mostly a fan of either Kyle as a top or Stan and Kyle as having a versatile relationship.
