Chapter 4

"Dammit, Stan, stop it! I'm not Wendy." Kyle growled, stressing the last word.
Stan looked rather taken aback, and Kyle could see the tendons in his hand show as he clenched it against his thigh.
"I know that...but you sure kiss like her." He teased, trying to lighten the mood. However, it was a low blow.

He failed. Epicly.

"Oh yeah?!" Kyle screeched, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You take that back. Right now."
"Make me." It was a challenge.
The Jewish boy glowered and grabbed at his friend's hat, pulling it down over his eyes in annoyance. "I'm a better kisser than that hoe ever will be." He stated, voice low. "So don't you ever compare me to her."
Stan flinched at the derogatory term and grumbled lightly under his breath, attempting to prise the clammy fingers from his hat. Kyle refused to budge, keeping them locked in place. A sharp throb pulsed through his hand, reminding him of his shameful display earlier. It bothered him somewhat, but he'd rather endure this pain than look Stan in the eyes.
"So you're a better kisser?" Stan ventured, barely audible.

"Yeah!"

"Yeah?"

Stan pushed his friend to the floor and pounced on top of him without warning, straddling the narrow hips in one fluid motion. Kyle blinked stupidly up at him, a little confused as to how he'd ended up on the floor on his back. Not to mention why the wild boy was sitting on top of him. Stan grinned menacingly, running his tongue seductively across his lips. He couldn't see - the hat was still held in place by Kyle's now trembling fingers...but he didn't need to.
To know just how fun this little experiment was going to be.
"I'll be the judge of that." He said, his voice a low hiss.

Poor Kyle didn't have time to react as the feral boy crashed his mouth onto his. He gasped in surprise and Stan took the inviting opportunity, shoving his tongue between the parted lips. The kiss was feverish, wild and hot, deep, and the Jewish boy felt his body start to react of its own accord. This was a side of Stan he so rarely got to see – he was normally quite placid and neutral. He'd never known him to be passionate before…but right now he didn't dwell on it. He was much, much too distracted at the moment. He snaked an arm around his friend's neck, massaging the hot skin under the collar as he earnestly kissed him back. The other very subtly found its way under Stan's shirt, and attempted to touch every bit of bare flesh it could reach. Kyle could feel the vibration of Stan's chest against his as he moaned deeply, breaking the kiss for a short moment as his lips moved down to the pale throat. Kyle's breath came in ragged gasps as his captor attacked his tender skin, bruising it with harsh and heated kisses. He unconsciously tilted his head back to allow better access, closing his eyes to give into the feeling, and he could almost swear he heard Stan chuckle quietly.
Whether he did or whether he didn't, Kyle soon didn't give a fuck as he felt Stan's fingers fumble with the zipper of his jacket. He sharply pulled it down, exposing even more flesh to the mercy of Stan's unforgiving kisses. His tongue wandered blindly across the hard protrusions of Kyle's collarbones, biting and sucking as he went. The fact that he couldn't see - that he had to touch instead of rely on sight, was one of the kinkiest things he'd ever done. He couldn't see how Kyle was reacting...but he sure could feel it. His body was writhing around underneath him on the bathroom floor, and Stan could taste the beginnings of salty sweat starting to form on his friend's neck. The taste was intoxicating, and he wanted more.

Kyle uttered a sharp moan as he felt Stan's mouth envelop one of his nipples. Oh god…it felt so good. Stan nipped and sucked playfully while his free hand explored across the milky chest, teasing the other when he felt the raised nub underneath his fingers. Kyle began to desperately grind his body against his raven-haired friend, revelling in the friction he felt in all the right places.

"Oh…Stan." He panted, as their hips brushed together. "Ahh…"

Stan froze and inhaled sharply, backing off.

"Stan?" Kyle ventured, missing his mouth already. His body burned under Stan's, and he could feel exactly where Stan had touched him only moments before.
"Why'd you stop?...Stan?" He asked, more forcefully this time. He had a nagging suspicion at the back of his mind, and he needed to confirm it once and for all.
Carefully, he raised his uninjured hand and pulled his friend's hat upwards, revealing two deep, blue, and very bemused eyes. Stan blinked a couple of times, and his baby blues became wide as they swept across every inch of the dishevelled Kyle below him.

"No way…" He griped, withdrawing his hands as though he had been burned. "This can't be happening."

Kyle's temper had had it, once again.
'So…that's how it is. He pretended I was Wendy, all along. The fucking dickweed!'

"STAN!" He roared, bringing up his leg. "You are SUCH a JERK!"
Stan winced as Kyle's knee hit home, and he doubled over, gasping, his eyes bugging out of his head. He'd felt pain before, but this…Nothing could compare to this. His balls felt like they had shot straight up into his throat, and refused to move. He choked, wrapping his arms around his stomach and wheezing complaints at Kyle. The smaller boy balled his fists tightly, and a sob escaped his lips before he could hold it back.

"Shut up, I don't ever want you near me again, UNDERSTAND?!"

Stan just had time to get a glimpse of Kyle's crushed expression before he kicked open the bathroom door and stormed out, raging and swearing as he went. He waded through the swarm of inquisitive teenagers, threatening anyone who got in his way, and brushing Kenny aside who attempted to stop him. He stumbled blindly out of the front door and down the street, his vision blurred by tears he refused to let spill as he leant against something tall and solid for support. Two strong arms grabbed his as he nearly toppled over, and he looked up in surprise to see a gloating face, whose piggy little eyes lit up with glee at the teary expression on his foe's face. Kyle groaned inwardly, talk about the last person you wanted to see. Well, second to last person, if you wanted to get technical.

"Well well well Kahl, looks like Stan kicked your ass pretty good!" He gloated. Kyle's expression did not change and he just stared, unfocused, at the big mug he was clinging to. Cartman's cruel words meant nothing to him, and didn't hurt nearly as much as what Stan's eyes had told him. He'd felt guilty, he was sure of it. Repulsed? Possibly. He didn't want to know, all he knew was he wanted the pain to stop…it was becoming too much to bear. He'd never been much of a crier, and crying in front of Cartman was something he was not prepared to do.

"Kahl? Hay you dumb Jew, anyone home?" The bigger boy asked, tapping the other boy's forehead. He was confused as to why his taunting had failed to get the usual rise out of his rival. Something must be very, very wrong; usually the hate words at least gave him a 'fatass' in return.

He was at a loss for words when, unexpectedly, he felt a small hand sweep across his crotch and begin rubbing furiously. 'What am I doing…' Kyle thought, disgusted with himself. Cartman had nothing to do with this, why was he involving him in this chaotic mess?
Cartman opened his mouth, but for once, nothing came out. Instead, his legs wobbled underneath him as he let out a small cry, falling to his knees and bringing Kyle down with him. Kyle continued kneading even harder without mercy, baring his teeth in disdain as the other boy's hand found his bulge and began returning the favour. The red head didn't look at him, he couldn't bring himself to; all he wanted was some kind of release. Anything to keep his mind away from the painful subject of Stan, and it was working. The pair were locked in a non-intimate-looking embrace, on their knees, and no other part of each other touched except for hands and manhood. Cartman had begun panting in short quick bursts as he neared his peak of pleasure, bucking frantically against Kyle's hand. Kyle squeezed his privates harder and didn't make a sound as Cartman did the same for him, causing him to come. There was almost no pleasure in it for him, but it still felt good to let go of the pressure he had been holding back. Cartman was not far behind and he let forth a small whine, shuddering as he came. He hunched his shoulders forward and jerked his head down against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut.
They kneeled like that for a minute. Then, without a word, Kyle dropped his hands and rose slowly to his feet. Cartman looked up, his eyes still glazed over with the satisfaction of post coital, and nodded curtly at the Jewish boy. Kyle nodded too, turning on his heal and ambling in the direction of home, leaving the bigger boy kneeling alone in the snow. Clearly, judging by his expression, this was a one-time-thing that was never going to be repeated. Cartman didn't question why they had done this, but it was a new experience that would save him the trouble of doing it himself anyway when he got home.