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It’s no surprise to him that his thoughts spiraled to this point. Even while sober, there were lingering glances and explicit ideas popping up in his head. There’s no reason for it either. Kyle Broflovski is 100%, without a doubt, NOT a catch. He’s a red-headed, short-tempered, stubborn, know-it-all asshole to anyone who meets him for the first time.
But he’s not like that to Stan. Not even close.
He’s still an easily annoyed smartass, but Stan is the sick one for liking it. No, liking his personality would just mean he’d snicker at the idea of him. With this much alcohol in his system, there’s no doubt that his feelings exceed like. Or at least, there’s no way to deny it anymore. Even without the alcohol, he’d be high on the beautiful soul that is Kyle Broflovski.
A groan escapes Stan as he turns on his side on his bed. He’d taken his last drink a few minutes ago, but the effects still seeped through his system. He’s not ashamed to be drunk on a school night; it wouldn’t be the first time. There’s no more escaping the alcoholism that was passed on to him from his father. It’s a problem to deal with another day.
It is dark in his room, and late in the night. No one should be up, and it was confirmed when Kyle sent his goodnight message a few minutes prior. Unlike Stan, he has his life together and stays up late completing his homework assignments. The same assignments Stan will probably ask to copy in the morning. Kyle’s always been a put-together person, and Stan admires that. He loves that he’s always ready, and loves even more how he tries to pass the trait onto Stan (it’s an impossible task).
There’s no resentment on Stan’s part. As a child, he’d get annoyed at the constant comparison to be like Kyle, but they always worked as a team. Kyle made sure Stan knew that they were equals, best friends. Now if only Stan could stop thinking about Kyle’s tongue being down his throat.
Stan rolls onto his back and lets out a groan. These thoughts haven’t stopped for nearly 6 months now. They popped up out of nowhere, too. Kyle is not someone to swoon over, and that’s not even an understatement. Stan and Kyle have seen every disgusting, embarrassing side of each other.
Think of all of his acne.
Stan closes his eyes to imagine his friend's face. Underneath his eyelids, he sees his best friend's acne-ridden face clear (puberty had not been nice to him). There’s a neutral expression on his face. It should be nasty to him, but when he focuses on his conjured-up-Kyle’s lips, his heart squeezes. He feels hot suddenly. He struggles to take off his shirt quickly, and his clumsy hands receive delayed instructions from his drunken mind. His shirt is thrown somewhere in his room. He shakes the back of his head slightly against his sheets.
The only cool part of him is his necklace, a new purchase that he was excited about. When Kyle had seen it on him the first time, he’d grasped it to get a better look. The slight tug Stan felt and the closeness between the two of them, is a memory that sends a shock to his crotch. He should have taken advantage of that moment. Maybe if he’d leaned in, he wouldn’t have to imagine what Kyle tastes like; he’d finally experience it firsthand.
Stan’s eyebrows furrow when his incessant command to think about his acne is ultimately replaced by Kyle. He’s frustrated when he runs his hands over his face. He grips the necklace, and the memory of Kyle replays.
Like a barrier was broken, Kyle replays in his head. Kyle grabbing his necklace. Kyle walking down the halls with him. Kyle glancing at him quickly in class. Kyle eating his lunch. Kyle inviting him over to his house. Kyle focusing on the TV. Kyle smiling at Stan’s comment. Kyle. Kyle. Kyle.
Kyle and his stupid acne-ridden face. Kyle and his stupid sneer when he’s arguing with Cartman. Kyle and the way he always uses correct punctuation in his messages. Kyle with his stupid, pretty pink lips. Kyle with his stupid, sharp laughs. Kyle with his soft eyes whenever he looks at Stan directly. Kyle holding Stan’s necklace, just a few inches away from Stan’s parted lips.
Kyle. Kyle. Kyle.
He’s yearning now, and it’s making Stan’s heart hurt. There’s another ache he feels that is much lower than his chest. He’s hard now, and it’s so wrong but feels so good. Kyle is his best friend. He might never look at him the same, but he already does look at him differently compared to everyone else. Maybe it’s Stan’s delusion feeding into his thoughts, but how is he the only one who sees this side of Kyle? How is he the only one who loves it and wants it all?
There’s a moment where he considers scrolling through his camera roll and looking back at his photos with Kyle, but he feels like that would cross a line completely. If he were to go all the way, he’d only allow what he remembers in his mind. He feels like that’s fair, but still groans at his current arousal.
He’d never allowed himself to think of Kyle that way. At least, not freely. He liked to think that while his feelings grew more intense every day, he could still have some self-control. Still, he’d find himself staring at Kyle a little too long. If he were sober, he’d shut this idea down and go to sleep, but he’s not sober. He’s in love. It’s so easy to say that when he’s intoxicated, but it’s freeing. He’s in love. He loves his best friend. He loves Kyle Broflovski.
He loves Kyle, and he wants him so badly. He could slap and spit on Stan all he’d like, as long as they belonged to each other, he’d take it all with a smile. He could take any part of Kyle. Taking any part of Kyle, Stan’s breath hitches at that thought.
He doesn’t know exactly what he likes. He’s not entirely sure how gay people have sex or what’s the more enjoyable role. He used to think that he’d always be the one who penetrated the other. It sounded the most appealing, but in his horny state, he thinks he wants Kyle to take him.
Kyle would probably fit that role best anyway. He’d always been the more commanding one between the two of them. How would Kyle treat him? Would he stay loyal to his softened version around Stan? Or would he finally have enough of treating him kindly and fuck him rough and hard?
Stan reaches to palm his erection. The idea of Kyle being rough with him excites him more than he thought. He needs Kyle to want him, needs him to own him. He needs to feel Kyle’s lips on his own with his soft, wet tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. He’d suck on Kyle’s tongue, memorizing and moaning at the taste of his best friend. There’s no way he would be able to kiss Kyle without turning it sloppy. To express his yearning for Kyle, he’d have to deepen their kiss as much as he could.
He’d memorize Kyle in any way he could. He'd run his hands all over his face, on his back, on his ass, legs, anywhere he could. He needs to feel Kyle’s skin on his. He knows their bodies would fit perfectly against each other, their rushes of warmth feeling like the best experience in the world. They’d connect almost perfectly. To fully fit one another wholly, completely, and entirely, Stan knows Kyle would need to be balls deep in his ass. And he wants it.
Stan’s hands are in his boxers now, rapidly jacking off his cock. It’s all too much for him to imagine. Finally being able to kiss Kyle. Finally feeling him against his body. It’s all a fantasy, but he spreads his legs, imagining Kyle slotting between them, finally fucking Stan, hard and deep.
His hips grind the air slightly as he imagines Kyle between his legs, stretching him completely. He had never tried touching himself down there before, but he just might start after this. Kyle would fill him to the brim with his cock. Stan and Kyle would feel each other entirely. Their pubic hair touches one another, becoming dirty with the combination of their pre-cum and lube. Stan imagines Kyle’s penis hitting his sweet spot every time he slides in and out of his ass. His gaping hole would learn to fit Kyle’s penis with how good he’d take his dick. Kyle would pant against him, maybe let out a moan, and Stan would soak it up. Maybe he’d tug at Kyle’s hair to get some noise out of him.
He’d lick at any part of Kyle he could. Suck at his neck relentlessly to mask up his own moans. His blunt nails would scratch Kyle’s back as he pounds into him, the line between pain and pleasure blurring. Before either of them could finish, Stan would force the two of them to kiss again. He would finally be able to moan freely into Kyle’s mouth. He’d finally be able to translate how insane Kyle makes him feel. How hard he gets at the idea of him. How fucking infuriating he is. How fucking good he makes him feel. With their kiss, all the saliva would drip down Stan’s face.
As Stan jerks off, he pants in his quiet room. He might be a bit too loud, since his house walls aren’t that soundproof. But the pleasure he feels is too intense for him to help himself. His back arches a bit, and his head involuntarily bobs side-to-side when he pictures Kyle again.
Kyle’s hips would pick up in speed, an almost animalistic pace. Stan would take it like the whore he is, and feel his own eyes roll to the back of his head. Kyle would quickly tell Stan that he’s about to cum, and he’d pump all of it deep into Stan’s ass. All his warm, gooey goodness would fill Stan to the brim until he’s leaking it. When he comes, Kyle's lips would find Stans's ear, and he would finally whisper the words Stan longs to hear.
I love you.
Stan shoves a fist into his mouth before he cums. His hips buck against his palm as he cums the hardest he has ever in his life. A groan escapes his mouth, even with his fist shoved in it. The warmth of his cum is all over his hands and chest. While breathing heavily, he slowly comes down from his high. The alcohol is still heavy in his system, which is why he still hears the words clear as day.
I love you.
In his ideal world, Kyle would feel the same. Kyle would love him as much as Stan loves Kyle. Stan would be able to treat Kyle as well as he treats him. Maybe one day be able to give Kyle his own mind-blowing orgasm.
Stan doesn’t feel as empty as he assumed he would be when he first vowed not to think of Kyle intimately. If anything, it just confirms his feelings even more. Stan loves his best friend, and while the feelings are scary, he makes another vow to himself that night. He vows to show Kyle how much he loves him. In his actions or his words, he will work up the courage one day to finally show him how he feels.
He smiles slightly in his dark room. Growing drowsier as time passes, and the stickiness on his chest slowly dries. A part of him tells himself to get ready for bed, but the alcohol in his system drifts him off to sleep before he can set up an alarm for the next day. His phone, beside his pillowcase, glows one last time in the night.
[3:11 am] Kyle <3:
I can’t sleep :(