Chapter 3

Stan wished the floor would just open up and swallow him whole. This was the last place in the world he wanted to be, but he knew he had to do it. Kyle had shifted forward to face him, and every so often he would teeter forward and their knees would touch. He was as drunk as an Irishman on St. Patrick's Day; duly noted. Cheeks, flushed with a slight tinge of red; and his breathing was shallow and ragged.
Stan took several deep breaths, working up the nerve, and leaned forward slowly, his lips inching closer to his best friend's. As he looked into Kyle's deep green eyes, they almost seemed to be pleading for something. His expression was unreadable despite their closeness, and that troubled Stan more than anything.

"You can close your eyes if you want." He whispered, so that only Stan could hear. "Pretend I'm her…"

Stan was taken aback as Kyle forcefully closed the gap, and he could feel the softness of his friend's lips as he was swindled into a feverish kiss. The faint sounds of Cartman sniggering to himself could be heard, and Kenny punching him shortly after to shut him up. Kyle was tentative at first, gentle and innocent, but he soon opened his mouth slightly and leaned into the kiss. Stan closed his eyes tightly and gasped a little as he, too, was swept in. It didn't feel as awful or wrong as he had assumed it would…And considering his Jewish friend's lack of practise and experience, he actually wasn't that bad at it. With Wendy it was different, she always took charge and he doubted they'd ever kissed for more than 10 seconds.
It was then Stan noticed something.
Something very important.

No one was timing.

Nobody had moved a muscle for what seemed like a full thirty seconds now. Wide, unblinking eyes flashed from every corner, a fact both boys were beginning to realise. Kyle's eyes snapped open, darting wildly around the room.

Oh shit.

They awkwardly broke apart, Kyle pushing his friend away from him and Stan hurriedly wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. This was not good.

"Why in the hell didn't anyone tell us to stop? Or TIME IT, at least?" Stan snapped.

Several girls were huddled together, blushing deeply and exchanging longing glances at the two boys.

"We didn't really…Want you to stop." Millie whispered. The stopwatch was resting, forgotten, on the floor in front of her. Her group of friends nodded in agreement, while Butters looked like he wanted to cry for some reason.

Stan groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand - an exasperated mannerism that was typical of the young boy. Kyle bit his lip and looked away quickly, not sure what to do. Had he really hated it that much? His eyes wandered over to Wendy, who was in a mixed state of emotion. She was staring, quite disbelievingly, at her boyfriend; but her cheeks were bright red in both anger and arousal.

"Spin the bottle, Kyle."

"WHAT?!" Both boys cried.

"You heard me. One round to go." She said, smooth as silk. She ran her tongue over her lips, delicately, and Stan silently cheered. It looked like someone wanted a very specific kind of birthday present, and he'd be more than happy to oblige. It wasn't often Wendy was in the mood, and he wasn't about to let such an opportunity pass him by again. He winked slyly, enjoying the attention while it lasted.
Kyle looked from Stan to Wendy then back again. He gritted his teeth in a sudden flash of anger and stood, holding the glass bottle above his head. All faces turned to the furious boy.

"FUCK THIS." He roared, throwing the bottle onto the floor. It shattered into a million pieces, shards skiting across the floor while people shielded their faces with their hands. One piece shot straight up into Kyle's hand, and he winced with the sudden flare of pain. Butters squeaked and clung to Kenny as he dodged a particuarly lethal-looking piece, burying his face in the thick, orange fabric of his hoodie. Cartman frowned but was pleased with the Jew's actions. Finally, the party was starting to pick up the pace.

"Stan! Do something!" Sobbed Wendy, tugging urgently on his sleeve. Her face was streaked with tears, and she had a small trickle of blood running down her cheek.

"Serves you right, you hoar." Kyle sneered, backing away quickly towards the bathroom door. His voice held malice, however his face betrayed him. It was that of a frightened child.

Stan's whole body shook with rage as he lightly wiped the blood from his girlfriend's face, before standing and following the perpetrator. He slowly drew his right arm back and smashed his fist across Kyle's face, knocking him onto his back. Kyle propped himself up, staring wide-eyed at Stan and touching his cheek in disbelief. Chaos immediately errupted in the room. Girls were screaming and sobbing, while boys split into two groups. Some were were egging Stan on, while others looked appauled and attepted to calm the girls down. Cartman grinned, enthusiastically pounding the floor with his fist, screaming "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT" at the top of his lungs. Stan wordlessly glanced back at Wendy before grabbing Kyle by the scruff of the neck and dragging him, kicking and struggling, into the bathroom. The door was locked behind them with a sharp snap, and the furious teen practically threw his friend accross the linoleum floor; who skidded on his backside before coming to a stop against the wall.
Kyle's body was racked with treamours as his punisher strode purposefully towards him, before kneeling down to his level and looking him straight in the eyes. Bright blue orbs scrutinised his face for what seemed like an enternity, and the redhead squirmed and flushed slightly under the intense stare, unused to his friend's behaviour. There was no doubt in his mind that he was about to recieve the beating of his life. And he knew he deserved it.
Submissively, he closed his eyes and looked away, clearly bracing himself for any punishment Stan felt inclined to dish out upon him.
Stan paused for a moment. This was not what he had been expecting. A moment ago he had been prepared to beat the living daylights out of the little cunt. Now, the anger he felt inside his chest had begun to burn out as he surveyed his friend, so willing to pay for his rude actions.

"I don't understand you..." he murmered in a low voice. Kyle sheepishly opened one eye at the calm sound, sneaking a peak to judge his fate. Stan had remained perfectly still and seemed quite at ease, which made Kyle increadibly nervous. Whatever he was planning, it must be very painful.

After a few minutes, Stan reached forward with one hand, ingnoring how Kyle blanched at the movement directed at his face. Instead, his hand lightly touched a pale cheek, barely grazing it with his fingertips. The reaction was quite astonishing. Kyle's eyes had snapped open at the contact, and he was now staring back at his friend with a soft pink reaching his cheeks and ears. His breath was coming in short, quick gasps as Stan continued to touch him, his face unreadable. His fingers applied more pressure as they passed tantalisingly close to Kyle's trembling lips. His expression became one of wonder as he let his hand drop, lightly coming to rest on Kyle's upper thigh. Kyle gulped and shook his head, attempting to shake himself out of his stupor. He couldn't give himself away that easily to Stan...He didn't want him to know just yet...He had to do something rash, again.

And quick.