Yay! I got the next chapter up reletivley quickly. I hope people are enjoying this, because I have a lot planned for it! It's going to be great! ...I hope. So, to make sure that it will turn out good, give me some feedback; tell me what you like, what you don't like. All that jazz, so I can improve and make the reading experience better for my audience. Thankly muchly!

Disclaimer is the same as chapter one and two: I don't own anything pretty much. Especially South Park, haha. Also, this chapter has a little more 'soft core' boy on boy action... sorta. So if you don't like that 1. Why the hell are you looking it up anyway? and 2. Don't be flaming about it (haha, gay pun)

So, enjoy!

Persevere

Chapter Three

Stan stretched himself over his bed with a yawn, listening to the shower run inside the bathroom just yards away. He ran his fingers through his wet hair and sighed, thinking about how he nearly killed his best friend by accident. However, the hot shower he had taken minutes ago seemed to cleanse him. Still, the boy couldn't help but roll over and glance toward his window, making absolutely sure it was locked.

Kyle was the one washing himself now while Stan waited patiently for him to finish. The dark haired teen sat up and swung his legs off the bed, nervously checking himself over; he was worried that he looked to ragged, even though all he was wearing was a white tank top and boxers.

Stan's eye listlessly drifted toward the door to his bathroom and absently stared at the rising steam that billowed in transparent plumes from the crack of the floor. Stan imagined Kyle humming softly as he brushed shampoo through the crimson shocks of hair. Trailing down his body with a firm bar of soap, his hand wiping timidly over the nape of his bellybutton.

Reaching lower, tracing his fingers over his silky skin. Down his smooth legs and then back up again, gingerly touching that special area. A blush running across his face as he let out a hushed moan so that his friend could not hear him. Grasping his dangling flesh that quickly filled with his rich blood, extending the organ. "Oh Stan," Kyle would whisper with a lustful gasp. "Stan, please, don't tease."

Stan swallowed hard, his eyes glazed over. "I love watching you twitch," he said. "Say my name again, Kyle."

"Stan! Oh Stan!"

"Kyle…."

"Stan! Can't you hear me?"

"I hear you, Kyle. I hear you loud and clear."

"…Then could you bring me a towel like I asked?" Stan blinked and straightened his back. He looked down at his throbbing flesh.

"Shit!" he cursed, trying his hardest to hide the blatantly obvious bulge in the thin fabric.



"No, seriously dude," Kyle called again, the water finally turning off. "There really isn't a towel in here and I need one." Stan got to his feet, but paused to readjust himself, swear words dotting his speech. He went to the hall closet and found another towel.

Stan knocked on the door to the bathroom. "Just place it on the sink, dude." The raven haired boy swallowed his heart again as it pounded mercilessly in his chest. He opened the door slowly and practically threw the towel into the room. But, as he moved back, his gaze lingered.

Stealing a glance, Stan looked into the foggy mirror, resting his eyes on the glorious sight of his friend's naked behind. With a jerk, he slammed the door shut and let go of his breath, instantly feeling ashamed for taking advantage of Kyle's ignorance. But his day dream had been so vivid! Why would he have a thought like that?

Kyle came from the bathroom, the newly acquired towel wrapped about his waist, and nearly smacked into Stan. He laughed it off however and they did a little dance, trying to get out of each other's way. Stan looked inside and saw a towel hanging on the rack.

"Hey, you fucking Jew!" he cried, turning back to Kyle. "There was a towel in there, I didn't have to get you one!"

"Yeah, but that one was the one you used," Kyle retorted, closing his eyes and pouting; his face growing a little red. "It was all over your… bits, you know?"

"Dude, grow up, you ass hole," Stan sniggered, placing his hands on his hips. Kyle's eyes drifted low but hastily looked away.

"Stan, just go masturbate already," he grumbled, walking toward the bed. "You've got a raging hard on."

The other teen went beat red with embarrassment. "B-but I…" Kyle gave him a suspicious look. "I- I… I d-don't masturbate, though…." Kyle raised a questioning eyebrow, but Stan only averted his gaze with humiliation.

"Oh my God!" Kyle breathed. "You're telling the truth! You really don't masturbate!"

Kyle plopped himself down on the bed with a wistful simper while Stan quickly lost his erection in embarrassment. "I only have one bed, dude," Stan informed, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Whatever, I can deal," Kyle sighed. "I owe you for my childish prank anyway. So I don't mind sleeping together."



Stan blushed again. He thought Kyle was going to offer to sleep on the floor, but this! This was queer… like really queer! But for some reason, Stan didn't object. He slipped into the bed as well, pulling the covers over his and Kyle's legs.

He inched closer but stopped mid breath as he looked down on Kyle's bare chest. "A-aren't you at least going to wear a shirt?" Stan grimaced at his wavering voice, hoping his friend wouldn't notice.

"I'm wearing boxers, isn't that enough?" Kyle complained. "I usually sleep in the nude anyway, so you're lucky I'm even wearing those!"

Stan's heart raced with the thought of Kyle in his bed, stark naked… touching himself….

He quickly shook the thought from his head, feeling that familiar tingling below his torso. "Here, I have more shirts," Stan insisted. He pulled off his tank top and gestured for Kyle to take it. "I can just get another one."

"Now who needs to grow up, asshole?" Kyle scoffed, taking the shirt and tossing it across the room. "Grow some balls, dude."

"Hey, I've got balls!" Stan yelled, putting his face up to Kyle's. The red head merely grinned, his eyes mooning over.

"Yeah, I can feel that."

Stan's eyes went wide and his face flooded with blood. He pulled back, not realizing he had been that close to Kyle. He breathed heavily, his own naked chest pumping up and down. Kyle clenched his jaw with worry.

"Stan, I can still hear your heart from here," he whispered. "Are you sure you don't have some kind of problem?"

"I have a huge problem," Stan mumbled lowly. Thankfully, though, Kyle didn't hear it.

"Just try to get some sleep tonight," Kyle pleaded. "I know it's still fresh in your mind, but… I'm here. And I won't let anything happen to you." And with that, Kyle turned on his side, almost instantly falling asleep.

Stan, however, was not so lucky. He tossed and turned for nearly three hours before he finally fell asleep.

He dreamed of his window being pushed open by an intruder, the hinges creaking eerily as he stepped inside. Stan sat up and screamed for Kyle to help as the 

stranger came closer. He hurriedly looked around the room for his friend. The red headed beauty was standing in the corner, his eyes narrow and his arms crossed like a jilted lover. And no matter how Stan screamed, Kyle would not come to his rescue.

The poor boy woke in a cold sweat. He saw the red glow of his alarm clock beaming the numbers 3:30. He had only been asleep for an hour….

Then he heard a low murmur, and it was then that Stan realized his arm had fallen asleep and become numb. Kyle, sometime during the night, had oriented himself into Stan's arms….

The teenager witnessed as Kyle nuzzled his nose deeply into Stan's chest and let out a satisfied breath. At first, Stan didn't know what to do. So… he didn't do anything. He just let him lie.

Gingerly, he placed his arms once again around the sleeping prince and brought him in tighter, lighting his fingers over Kyle's pale flesh. Darkness took him, and his eye lids became heavy. For the first time in two years, sleep truly washed over Stan. His last, tired words that escaped his lips were:

"Kyle… I… love you…."