WARNING: YAOI PERFERTEDNESS AHEAD

The television was still flashing black, grey and white colors into the room as Stan and Kyle sipped on their hot chocolate. Some time into the night they had become bolted to the sofa. Since Kyle's mother called the room had fallen silent; they only watched the menorah burning or the television illustrating the melodramatic tale of a vampire. Kyle suddenly broke through the silence,

"Three days…mom said that all three days there won't be any sun. It's all gonna be covered with black fog. She thinks it's aliens or something, but…we'll be having black-outs, no light outside and the snow for three days straight. No one's leaving their houses."

Stan looked to Kyle; Kyle did not look concerned at all, so Stan did not let himself worry. He leaned into Kyle and asked, "Are you scared?"

Kyle shook his head negatively, still not removing his indifferent gaze from the television, "No."

Stan smiled before sighing, "Jews are never scared."

Kyle looked to Stan with a cocked eyebrow, inquiring, "…what?

Stan argued, "Like…they just followed Moses into the desert without a single complaint or fear—"

Kyle interrupted, "Dude, my people were slaves. If some crazy guy with a stick told me I could escape with him, I'd follow him too."

Stan continued, "You guys were brave enough to kill Jesus even after he told you guys that he was God's son…"

Kyle glared to Stan jokingly, stating dully, "…Stan…majority of the world hates us for that."

Stan shrugged, replying, "And what about Moses…if I saw a burning bush with a voice…I'd shit myself. Not only did he listen to it, but he followed its orders of killing the only family he had ever known."

Kyle rose an index finger in the air before telling Stan matter-of-factly, "Actually, he never killed his brother. He only ensured that his brother would die sooner."

Stan let his side slump and fell against Kyle. Stan's shoulder was against Kyle's chest, creating a fluster on Stan's cheeks as he shrugged again and told Kyle, "Whatever. Still counts as killing him."

Kyle looked down onto Stan's ebony strands of silk as he asked, "You think that counts as killing someone?"

"Duh…I mean, he just left him out there, dude."

Kyle replied, "But…he didn't end his brother's life. He only…like…made sure it would."

Stan glared and snorted, "I think I'm the better Jew here."

Kyle laughed, "Yeah, sure, Stan. Besides the whole fact that you believe in Jesus Christ divinity, you're a perfect Jew."

Stan chuckled, "I am."

Kyle smiled, "You know, Stan…you're awesome."

Stan looked up to his friend, his heart pumping with charm as he asked, "…uhm, thanks, dude, but…why?"

Kyle did not remove his eyes from Stan's as he told him softly, "You're just cool in every way. I mean…if I had to choose between a life with a woman I loved, or a life of abstinence with you…I'd definitely choose you."

Stan flushed with color and he remembered something intriguing…

"You know I'll always care about you, and when you're confused, I am too."

"I'm sad when you're sad, Stan…I can help it as much as you can help worrying about me…I just care too much about you, and when I know you're confused and upset…I get the same way…"

Was Kyle telling him this…to tell him something else? That maybe…maybe Kyle was a little confused too? Stan leaned up, pressing his chest against Kyle's as their faces neared. Stan smiled curiously when he realized he was too wimpy to actually go through with kissing Kyle and instead wrapped his arms around Kyle's frame. He asked, "Kye…can we just…go to sleep here?"

Kyle chuckled softly, "Yeah, sure, Stan."

Kyle watched over Stan as he fell asleep, and honestly, Stan knew his friend was watching and it made it hard for Stan to fall asleep, but he did eventually. Stan's breathing had grown nearly silent as the television buzzed over his murmuring. Kyle was still watching this pathetic vampire marathon in black and white and was about to fall asleep when he heard Stan mutter something inaudible. Kyle disregarded it until Stan shifted. Stan's strong, athletic arms stretched downward; his tenacious hands wrapping their fingers around the waistband of Kyle's boxers.

Kyle immediately was snapped out of his tired glaze; Stan's soft brush against his abdomen had awakened and excited all of his nerves. As much as Kyle was disturbed and shocked by the simple touch that would not strike anyone else any significance, he was inwardly hoping Stan would continue his unconscious, curious excursion. Kyle's face was beating with the fast-paced blood that had flooded to it from the moment he had felt Stan move. Stan sighed lowly in his sleep as he moved upward on Kyle's body; his lips meeting Kyle's neck as his fingers spread and pushed his hands further down Kyle's pants.

The instant Stan's flesh had reached the intensely sensitive area on Kyle, Kyle's curls bobbed as his head shot back. His back arched slightly as Stan's hands still stretched against the now tough evidence of boyhood on Kyle, and Kyle could not hold back the moan that escaped him, "Nnnh—"

Kyle's eyes shut tightly in pleasure as Stan had gone searching for Kyle's neck when Kyle arched back, and found it. Stan's hands began running down sensitive, heated skin, awakening an unfamiliar desperation in Kyle as Stan's perverse dream of his Jewish friend continued to be reenacted in the physical world by his tongue slipping out against Kyle's neck. Kyle tried to hold back, but simply couldn't; he let slip a whimper of Stan's name, thus proving to wake his friend. Stan's eyes opened slowly, his brain not completely registering the stiff, torrid member in his palms at first. Once he did realize his position, however, he looked to Kyle with wide, mortified eyes, a red face and quickened pace of heart.

"K-Kyle?"

Kyle's red face was only visible behind his chin; his neck still sent backwards. Kyle's tightly shut eyes were still too overcome with physical shock to open them; one opened, looked to Stan and closed again. He stammered in reply, "S-Stan…y-you're…"

He couldn't finish his sentence, though. His nervous system was jumping, his skin was echoing in heat, his heart was racing, his mind was spinning, but blank. His body was fighting against Kyle, his lower region begging to reply to Stan's curious fingers. Kyle's face was so scarlet, Stan was scared of bodily harm towards Kyle and his perfect, freckled face. Kyle's head, though, wasn't working properly and reminded him of a promise he had secretly made to himself a long time ago. His bedroom eyes opened lowly, looking to Stan's unmoving image; Stan's ocean eyes met with Kyle's and Stan felt violated by the very look in Kyle's eyes.

Kyle shot forward, crushing his mouth hungrily over Stan's. He immediately broke through Stan's lips and ran his tongue against Stan's and dominated the kiss lustfully. His arms moved from his sides, up to Stan's chest, then slowly migrated to Stan's neck. This placement allowed him to determine just how much of him Stan would let in, and it would insure Stan could not escape. To Kyle's surprise Stan returned the kiss, and still did not remove his hands, no matter how Kyle's size grew. Kyle was reluctant at first, but moved his hands from Stan's neck, down to his chest again and pushed away lightly, breathing in gasps of air.

Stan gasped as well, asking, "W-what was that?!"

Kyle looked to him; his emerald eyes still hungry with passion, fogged with desirous lust. Kyle wrapped his arms around Stan's neck, one hand sliding through Stan's charcoal hair, and another gripping to his shoulder. Kyle whimpered with hot breath against Stan's feverous neck, "I c-could never let s-someone touch me in s-such a way, without ever having k-kissed them…that would make me f-feel used…"

Stan blushed furiously, wondering if he should finish what he had started; play out all of his perverse daydreams. He could not decide; he didn't know what to do, so he leaned forward and bit softly into Kyle's neck. Kyle moaned quietly as Stan bit, then ran his tongue over the tender flesh. Stan's breath was becoming humid, and suddenly every nerve was encouraging him to continue his lecherous attack on Kyle, and every piece of clothing felt like that much too much, his abdomen began to ache once he realized he had made a choice. He had his hands lower onto Kyle further, capturing Kyle's price of puberty and running his hands along it as he continued to leave a trail of pungent kisses down Kyle's neck.

He was flooded with pride when he felt Kyle's hands tighten on their recently assigned areas in Stan's hair and back. Stan could feel Kyle trying to hold them back, but in the dark, silent, yet somehow noisy room Stan would sometimes here Kyle's soft cries, whimpers and disinclined moans of pleasure. This pride, compared to nothing, though, as Kyle pulled Stan's head away from Kyle's neck by his hair; Stan received only a moment of air before Kyle clamorously ran his tongue over Stan's lips, requesting entrance. Stan did let Kyle through and for a long while felt Kyle's moans echo behind his own lips. Kyle gripped Stan's locks of ebony before pulling away and murmuring lowly, "God, I want you, Stan…"

Stan forcefully kissed Kyle again, their tongues fighting for dominance and when Stan was positive Kyle had reached his climax…

…he woke up.

"Kyle!" Stan called out as he woke up.

The morning seemed to have arrived, although the only way he was able to tell this was by the clock on the wall above the television which was still flickering the old movies. Stan looked up and collected the memories of falling asleep on Kyle's chest after kindly asking if they could sleep on the couch. He sighed…another filthy dream of the Jewish boy…

He looked up to Kyle and anticipated greatly the other boy waking up and using his genius to create something edible. That, sadly, was all he could wish for from Kyle as of now.