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Never in his life did he think that a sleepover with his best friend of ten years would be this nerve wracking.
If Stan’s fourth grade self could see him now, he would laugh right in his face.
He could always lie and say something came up, but Stan had never been good at hiding things from Kyle. All he could do was get a grip and pretend last night didn’t happen.
And that was exactly what he did, driving his beat up pickup truck to Kyle’s place.
It didn’t take Kyle long at all to answer the door. Stan didn’t even have to knock. “Hey, man! Come in - my parents and Ike are away in Denver for the day to check out a college. Oh, and I’ve got a movie set up. It’s the horror one that Cartman wouldn’t shut up about.”
Stan winced. It was just the two of them for tonight. Alone.
Deep breaths, Stan, you’ve got this. “Oh, yeah, I remember that. It’s one of those movies he watches to make him seem superior to everyone else. He thinks he's a film critic or something.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I hate when he does that.” He shut the front door as Stan stepped into the house. “You go sit down in the living room, and I'll go make some popcorn.”
Stan obliged, wandering into the next room to take his usual spot on the couch. Now that he was alone for a moment, everything seemed to crash down on him. Just him and Kyle - his best friend, the guy he'd undoubtedly been in love for the past couple years - alone. All night long. How would he last all night long? He was just supposed to ignore the fact he masturbated to Kyle less than a day ago? That was kind of fucked up, even for them. Kyle would never talk to him ever again if he ever figured it out.
Then again, Stan was a terrible liar.
Stan shook off all his thoughts when he heard the microwave beep in the other room. In an effort to distance himself even farther from memories of last night, he pulled out his phone to aimlessly scroll through his social media.
That backfired almost immediately. The first thing Stan saw was the picture of Kyle from last night.
Goddamnit.
He could feel his ears get all warm, spreading across his face. This was the last thing he wanted to see right now, all tense from every bottled up emotion inside of him.
So of course Kyle had to walk in at that exact moment.
“Aw, that’s a good picture of you,” Kyle said, setting down the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
Stan shut off his phone and shoved it inside his pocket. He couldn’t think of anything to say. Why did it feel like Kyle knew? “Uh, thanks,” he mumbled. God fucking dammit.
“Was that from when we went ice skating last winter?” Kyle asked.
Stan had no idea. He was kind of preoccupied when he found it in his camera roll. “Um, yeah, I think so.”
Kyle grinned, sitting down beside him. “You could not skate for your life,” he said, laughing a little at the memory. “You’d always fall down and I had to carry you all the way home. That one time you fell flat on your face, and you broke your nose, then found out, like, a week later.”
Stan remembered that part - mostly because his nose still hurt a bit. “We’re matching then, huh?” he smiled, pointing at his nose bridge that was ever so slightly crooked.
Kyle laughed, moving in closer to Stan. Kyle hadn’t bothered to heal his own broken nose, not since he’d been hit with a dodgeball in third grade.
Still giggling, Kyle turned on the movie, setting the remote beside the popcorn bowl.
Maybe this was going to be okay after all.
///////////
Somewhere around the halfway point in the movie, Stan was getting kind of tired. It was getting late, and he obviously didn't get much sleep last night. Plus this movie was boring. Cartman had terrible taste in films.
Stan jumped when he felt something drop on his shoulder. Glancing to his right, he saw that Kyle had fallen asleep, head resting on Stan's shoulder.
Oh, god was really testing him now.
Kyle's breathing was steady and shallow, chest rising softly. His ushanka was crooked again, allowing for his red curls to spill down Stan's shoulder. His eyes were closed, though his lashes fluttered ever so slightly. One hand laid next to the TV remote, and the other rested on Stan's thigh. His mouth hung open a little, just enough for Stan to be sure he was asleep.
Dear God, Stan wanted to look away, he really did, but he just couldn't. There was something so captivating about Kyle, laying there without a clue as to what Stan was thinking about right now. No idea what he had done the night before, just blissfully unaware.
Stan tried to push it away, he really did, but it was no use. With Kyle's mouth open like that, practically calling out his name… it was impossible to ignore.
He could feel his pants tighten uncomfortably. Yeah, there was definitely no ignoring that. The only solution seemed to involve moving Kyle and hoping that he didn't wake up.
Luckily for Stan, Kyle was a heavy sleeper.
Placing a pillow where he had been sitting, Stan slipped off into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and locking it.
Stan felt lightheaded as he stripped off his pants and cast them to the side. God, he felt creepy as shit - mostly because he fucking was. Who thinks these things about their best friends? What was he supposed to do? This boner wasn't going away on its own, and taking a shower would definitely wake up Kyle. So there was only one option - jack off to his friend's face. Again.
Except this time was worse. This time, Kyle was right down the hall, asleep, totally unaware of what was going on in the bathroom.
He shut his eyes tight as he palmed himself through his boxers, flinching as hot shame spread over his body. Ugh, he was so gross. He absolutely hated himself for this. Why couldn’t he stop it? Why was this happening to him? He was an awful person. He was weird and gross and a disgusting little pervert.
Stan chewed at his bottom lip, chest constricting as he sunk to the floor. He was vaguely aware of tears forming at the corners of his eyes, but he pushed them away. Crying would make this ten times worse. Trying to regain focus, Stan took out his phone with his left hand and used the other to lazily stroke himself. He wasted no time flipping through his camera roll to find a picture of Kyle. The one he chose was different from the one from last night. In this photo, Kyle was half asleep, a lethargic grin on his face, eyes half closed but still bright and awake. He was wearing his hat, though it did little to hide the long, messy curls that fell into view.
Oh dear god, what was he doing? He was fucking sick.
Stan shut his eyes again, letting his mind wander.
For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine it was Kyle scolding him, just as he had imagined last night. Kyle, looking at Stan with sheer disgust, telling him he was a repulsive pervert. Saying how weird, how vile it was to masturbate to the thought of him.
Stan hummed softly, not daring to open his eyes, muttering Kyle’s name under his breath. He had already begun to pump his fist faster, letting more and more thoughts come to him. God, he wanted, needed Kyle so bad it fucking hurt. Stan wanted nothing more than to claim Kyle as his, fuck him absolutely senseless, right this very moment, go out to the couch and do it right then and there. He wanted it so bad. He wanted to feel Kyle writhing underneath him, begging for him, crying for more.
Stan felt his dick twitch when he sped up again, moving his hand from the tip to the base at a rapid pace. He imagined that it was Kyle stroking him, teasing him and still berating him for his abhorrent behavior. He pictured Kyle’s green eyes boring into his own, glaring at him intently, full of judgment.
He finally built up the courage to open his eyes, looking at the photo of Kyle again. Stan let out a low moan, hoping to god that Kyle couldn’t hear it from the other room.
But part of him hoped Kyle would hear. He'd burst through the doorway and find Stan on the floor, a complete mess of precum and tears.
Stan managed another small wail from the back of his throat, trying to keep his volume under control. Now his eyes were trained on his right hand, moving up and down in a rhythmic pattern. He ran his thumb over his tip, digging into his slit, drawing out more slick. Stan flinched, his entire body shaking and thighs tensing up.
It was becoming more and more difficult to keep himself quiet. Stan moaned again, louder this time, as he sped up his movements. His head fell forward on his chest and he set his phone on the floor.
Every sensation was intense as Stan’s body nearly ascended with an influx of emotion. All he could think about was Kyle. Kyle’s lips around his cock, choking and crying as he begged for air. Kyle laying on the couch, jacking himself off as Stan pounded into him as hard as he could. Kyle with his eyes rolled back in his head, panting heavily, watching Stan’s cum spill out of him and onto the sheets below.
Stan couldn’t hold back a loud cry this time. He shut his eyes, leaning against the wall for support, relishing the feeling of warm cum flowing over his hand. His body shook once again as he rode himself through his orgasm. The slow sense of satisfaction spread over him before it was replaced by panic.
His already too fast heart beat spiked when he heard a knock on the bathroom door.
“Stan? Are you okay in there?”
Oh shit.
“Uh, y-yeah, I’ll be right out,” Stan said, still gasping for air. “Just f-finishing up.”
“You sure? You’ve been groaning and calling my name for ten minutes now.”
Oh shit.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Stan managed to say, his anxiety building.
Kyle’s voice grew firm. He clearly saw right through that. “Open this door, Stan.”
Oh, god, what was he going to do? It was incredibly obvious that he had been jacking off. All he could do was pull on his pants as fast as he could, turning the doorknob with a shaking hand.
He was met with Kyle’s bright green eyes, though where Stan expected to see disgust, there was only faint concern.
Now Stan really couldn’t hold back tears. The reality of what he’d done crashed down on him for the first time. He was such an asshole. What was Kyle going to think about him now?
“Oh my god, Kyle, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m really, really sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” he rambled. Dear god, how could he be so fucking stupid?
Kyle just blinked at him. “Stan, calm down. I don’t care. It’s okay, I promise.”
Stan froze. That wasn’t at all what he had been expecting. “What do you mean, ‘it’s okay’? This is the opposite of okay! I’m a fucking pervert!”
“Relax, Stan, relax,” Kyle said, his voice even. “It’s not a big deal.”
That just wasn’t true. Stan couldn’t believe that. This had to be one of the worst things he’d ever done, which was kind of saying a lot. At least, he felt really, really guilty about it. “It is a big deal! God, I don’t know why I couldn’t stop myself, I’m-”
Stan didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Kyle drew himself up and planted his lips on Stan’s.
Again, not what he was expecting.
Before Stan could really grasp what was happening, Kyle pulled away from him, leaving him rigid in shock. “I guess this makes it a bit easier to tell you now, huh?” Kyle laughed quietly, mostly to himself.
Stan couldn’t bring himself to ask what Kyle meant. His mind was still reeling. Everything had happened way too damn fast, too fast for him to process.
“I think I like you.”
No shit.
That made things more difficult than they already were. Or did it make them easier? Stan really couldn’t tell.
“I, uh, like you, too,” Stan stammered. He wasn’t sure what to say. What was he supposed to say? ‘Oh, awesome, I’ve had a crush on you since we were ten. Sorry for jacking off to you’?
“Um. Okay. Cool,” Kyle muttered, averting his gaze. A brief moment of silence passed before he dropped his face into his palms. “Oh my god, this is so fucking awkward.”
Stan laughed hesitantly. "Yeah," he muttered under his breath. For a while, the pair just stood there, looking each other up and down. To his relief, Stan didn't have to say much else, because Kyle reconnected their lips, leaning into Stan confidently.
Stan let out a little noise of surprise, waiting a moment before kissing Kyle back. Kyle had thrown his arms around Stan's neck to get better leverage, making an effort to keep their lips together. Stan wasn't sure where to put his hands, partially because they were still smeared with his own jizz, so he just kept them at his sides. It didn't take long for him to ease into it, closing his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. The tears had stopped now, leaving tracks along his cheeks. But the tentative comfort was ruptured when Kyle pulled himself in closer, shutting his eyes tighter, moving his hands down to Stan’s hips, deepening the kiss.
Now Stan really didn’t know what to do. He hesitantly rested his hands on Kyle’s shoulders and let the shorter of the two take the lead for now.
It wasn’t all that long before Stan felt Kyle lick along his lower lip. Still startled, Stan didn’t know how to respond other than to open his mouth a little to allow Kyle to slip his tongue inside. Stan flinched at the newfound sensation, but didn’t pull away or protest, so Kyle persisted, carefully exploring every crevice he could reach.
Involuntarily, Stan let out a small whine, especially when Kyle pressed on, tracing Stan's hips with confident fingertips.
It was all so overwhelming. Stan hesitantly pulled away from Kyle, aware of his pounding heart and rapid breathing. "Kyle, what are you-"
Stan didn't get the chance to finish before Kyle interrupted him. "Let's head to my bedroom and we can figure that out, yeah?"
"But-"
Kyle laughed, holding a finger to Stan's mouth before he could continue. "Just take me to bed and fuck me properly, dumbass."
Well, who was Stan to object to that?
"Uh, okay," Stan replied, absolutely dumbfounded. Much too flustered to reply, he allowed Kyle to take his hand and drag him down the hallway.
Stan felt lightheaded as he was led to Kyle's bedroom and flung down on the mattress. He felt hot, blood pulsing through every inch of his body. Every limb felt numb even as Kyle hurriedly pulled off Stan's sweatpants with gleaming green eyes. He sat up, dazed, watching Kyle trace a long line from his chest to the hem of his boxers.
“Oh, god,” Stan groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. This was way too much. He was going to pass out.
But he was kind of okay with that.
“Jesus, Stan, you gonna make it?” Kyle teased. He pulled at the elastic waistband, snapping it back against Stan’s skin.
Stan didn’t say a word, just forced himself to make eye contact with Kyle. The redhead was settled between his thighs, licking his lips and lightly prodding at Stan’s clothed erection. So suddenly, everything that he could only dream of was his reality.
“Ready?” Kyle asked, looking up at Stan in earnest.
Stan nodded. “Mm-hmm,” he hummed. “Ready.”
Kyle began stripping off Stan’s boxers, but never taking them off fully. Stan felt his face heat up with embarrassment, and he was sure Kyle could tell. He was so hard that it hurt, the ache of his desperation becoming difficult to bear. He needed something, anything, to relieve himself.
Kyle, however, had something a bit different in mind.
“Jesus,” he muttered, clearly trying to hide how flustered he was. “Shit, Stan, already want another round?”
Stan looked away, his face bright red. “Just get on with it,” he snapped, gripping the sheets beneath him.
“Tell me if I’m doing this right,” Kyle said with a small laugh. “I don’t really have a ton of experience.”
Stan nodded, trying to steady his breathing, his eyes darting around the room and landing on Kyle. He had abandoned his hat just a moment ago, letting his red hair fall just in front of his eyes. He was laying flat on his stomach between Stan’s legs, propping himself up on his elbows and resting his face in his hands. His face was flushed, eyes focused on Stan's growing erection. Slowly, Kyle began stripping Stan of his boxers, leaving his lower half completely exposed.
Kyle's breathing hitched, his face heating up. He was incredibly close to Stan, so close that every little gasp was as hot as fire on his bare skin. The only thing Stan could feel was rising embarrassment.
"Fuck," Stan muttered, shutting his eyes. "Kyle, I'm -"
He cut himself with a muffled groan. Stan's eyes flew open to see Kyle had taken his tip in his mouth. The redhead stared up at him with his unwavering green gaze, piercing right through Stan.
It was better than Stan imagined. He bit back another tiny noise when Kyle's tongue dug into his slit, swirling around his tip. Stan couldn’t look away - he was entranced, totally focused on Kyle's face, drinking in every detail. Red lips were wrapped around Stan's length in an overly erotic fashion. Scarlet hair framed Kyle's perfect face, complementing the faint freckles that dotted his nose. Green eyes sparkled like stars in the darkness that stood out even in the misty moonlight. Stan could just barely make out a vague smirk on the corner of his lips, almost in a teasing sense. Kyle's clothes clung to his body that spread across the bed, highlighting his curves. Just looking at him made Stan drip with precum, spilling into Kyle's mouth.
Kyle exhaled through his nose before forcing himself to take more of Stan in his mouth. Stan didn't hold back his cry this time, throwing back his head against the wooden bedframe.
"Fuck, shit, Kyle!" Stan hissed through clenched teeth. Without noticing, he ran his hand through Kyle’s soft curls, gripping his scalp. He could hardly control himself, pulling Kyle in closer until he choked, so his entire length became hidden.
Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, his low groan muffled. Stan paused, allowing Kyle to catch his breath and let his throat adjust. It also gave Stan the time to gather his thoughts that ran rampant through his mind. He kept working his fingers through Kyle’s hair in an idle attempt to calm his rapid heartbeat. But he still kept his focus on the ruby red lips and heavy panting beneath him, his gaze unwavering.
“Good?” Stan managed to ask, moving his hand down to cup Kyle’s face. Kyle just looked up at him and gave a slight nod before sliding his tongue against Stan. He gasped sharply, keeping Kyle in place for a moment, relishing the warm sensation that cascaded over him the more Kyle goaded him on. Every word Stan tried to say came out as nonsense, becoming faint murmurings of pleasure.
Too soon, Kyle pulled off of Stan’s dick with a sickening pop, leaving a string of saliva hanging in between. Stan whined in dismay, shooting Kyle the slightest glare out of the corner of his eye.
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Relax, I’m not done yet,” he said jokingly. “As long as you’re feeling alright.”
Stan nodded eagerly. “‘M fine,” he mumbled. He could hardly breathe. He had always fantasized about this, but he never thought it would actually happen.
This time, Kyle took in all of Stan in one go, bottoming out almost immediately. That was definitely more stimulation than Stan was ready for.
“Oh, fuck!” Stan yelped. Without any further provocation, he grabbed Kyle’s hair again, pulling him off just a little before slamming him back. Kyle cried out in surprise, barely gaining his bearings just as Stan bucked his hips up.
Before either of them really knew what was happening, Stan started fucking Kyle’s mouth, slowly at first, giving Kyle a brief minute to accommodate himself. Kyle let Stan take complete control, going limp under his touch. He let Stan guide him along his dick the best he could, following his every movement.
"Kyle," Stan whined. "Fuck, Kyle!" His voice rose, especially as he sped up the pace. The room was full of low moans and persistent gagging. With each thrust, Stan hit the back of Kyle's throat, making the smaller boy audibly choke. Even so, his eyes eventually found Stan's, brimming with tears. There was something in those green depths that Stan couldn't quite place.
Stan's body tensed up with a familiar sensation. He was prepared to force Kyle away from him, but that happened sooner than he expected. Kyle’s mouth left Stan's cock just as he was about to reach his climax.
"Why’d you stop?" Stan complained, even though he already knew the answer.
Kyle didn't respond. Instead he pulled himself up to lay across Stan's body, diving in for a kiss. The touch was gentle, their lips sliding into place like puzzle pieces. Stan stifled a small moan, exhaling softly. It was a drastic change from the mood a moment before, but it wasn't unwelcome.
The pair sat in silence for a second, enjoying each other's company, heads close together, until Kyle spoke. "Do you want to take this all the way or not?"
Maybe it was because of his horny brain fog, but Stan didn't need to think about his answer. "Yes," he whispered. "Please."
That was all Kyle needed. He slid off the bed to take off his pants, and it was obvious he was just as hard as Stan was. His boxers were dampened a bit from precum alone, a sight that practically made Stan’s mouth water. His thighs were exceptionally pale, and their skin looked silky smooth. He pulled his sweater over his head and abandoned that on the floor, too. The rest of him was just as pale as his lower half, though that varied in his face, bright red with blush in comparison.
“You’re staring,” Kyle pointed out.
“Sorry,” Stan quickly apologized, sitting up. “I’m… you’re just so…” He took a moment to search for the right word. “You’re beautiful.”
Kyle looked away, definitely more flustered than he was a second ago. “Th-thank you,” he murmured, unsure of how to respond. He kept his posture rigid, clearly trying to brush off Stan’s compliment. He cleared his throat before asking, "I - uh, how do you want to-"
"Lay on your back," Stan answered Kyle's question before he finished speaking.
Kyle did what he was asked, carefully easing himself down on the bed. Stan stood up, all too aware of his hard-on. It was impossible to ignore, especially when he and Kyle were so close to each other. He swallowed back his doubt and desperately tried to disregard the reality of what was happening. This was exactly what he wanted - why turn away now?
Neither of them said a word as Stan stood in front of Kyle, whose head lifted off the bed so he could see what Stan was doing. In all honesty, Stan didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing. Surely it would hurt if he just…went in dry? “Do you have any, uh, lube or anything?” That sounded like the first priority.
Kyle jerked his head to his nightstand. “There’s a bottle in the top drawer,” he said, glancing away again. “But I don’t have any, um, condoms.”
Stan blinked. “Do we need any?” It wasn’t like either of them could get pregnant.
“I guess not,” Kyle mumbled, shrugging.
Stan reached over to the drawer, finding a small, clear container, filled with what must’ve been lube. “D’you need any prep or do you think you’re gonna be okay?” he asked anxiously.
Kyle thought, chewing on his bottom lip. “I dunno,” he muttered. “I think I’ll be alright.” He didn’t offer an explanation as to why, and Stan didn’t think anything of it at the moment. He popped open the cap on the bottle, squeezing a good amount of lube over his fingers and spreading it on his dick, coating it entirely. It was cold and stickier than Stan expected, but it wasn’t extremely unpleasant. Between this and Kyle’s saliva from earlier, he hoped it would be enough lubrication.
Stan lifted Kyle’s legs off the bed without any warning, swinging them over his shoulders. Kyle flinched at the new position, trying to get comfortable before Stan did anything else. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” Kyle huffed.
In response, Stan leaned forward, kissing Kyle’s forehead. “You’re just gonna have to trust me,” he said simply. “Tell me if I hurt you, okay?”
Kyle nodded, resting his head back on the mattress and shutting his eyes. Stan shook away all his worries, firmly grasping Kyle’s hips and lining up with his entrance. Without thinking about it, his gaze flicked up to look up at Kyle’s face, so red that it almost matches his hair. He’s tense, but his green eyes are clear as day, filled with unwavering love that’s been waiting to show itself for so long.
Stan pushed into Kyle slowly, forcing himself to only insert his tip. Kyle flinched, covering his mouth with one hand and using the other to steady himself. “Fuck, Stan,” he hissed, shivering under his touch. “Th-that’s good,” he gasped. Taking that as permission to go farther, Stan bucked his hips, watching as he slid another inch inside. His fingertips tighten on Kyle’s waist, surely leaving imprints on the pale skin. Stan could feel the burn of desire piling up inside him, but he didn’t dare risk hurting Kyle. He promised he would be careful.
“Stan, s-stop teasing and fuck me,” Kyle hissed at him, and Stan could tell he was mildly annoyed. Nevertheless, Stan eased the rest of him inside, earning a cry from Kyle, until he was buried up to the hilt.
Both boys paused to catch their breath. Stan’s eyes wandered to Kyle’s again, admiring him once more. His hair was splayed out behind him in a river of fire, leaving his face unobscured. The moonlight danced across his face in faint shadows, catching on his eyelashes. He seemed calmer now, his shoulders relaxed and a small smile on his face. His torso was dusted with blush, reflecting his cheeks. The head of his dick was bright red with desperation, begging to be touched, to have any sort of stimulation.
“You’re staring again,” Kyle reminded him, attempting to suppress a laugh to no avail. He broke out in a grin. “You look so stupid right now!” he scoffed.
“I do not!” Stan fired back defiantly, finding himself smiling too. “You should see yourself!”
For a moment, they just laughed at themselves, at their ridiculous situation, disregarding the atmosphere entirely. It felt more genuine. It felt like them.
“You’re such an idiot,” Kyle told him affectionately.
Stan rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?” he threatened, still beaming down at Kyle.
“I guess so,” Kyle rolled his shoulders, though the playfulness didn’t fade from his expression. “I’m ready when you are.”
Stan gave him a nod, beginning to pull out before pushing back in. That caused Kyle to wince violently, but he didn’t complain, and soon he eased back into pleasure. Every thrust was slow at first, with Stan forming a rhythm before getting any faster. It wasn’t too hard to get a pattern established. Stan snapped his hips back and forth, concentrating on his movement before he did anything else.
“Shit!” Kyle managed to gasp through heavy panting. Stan looked up at him. Kyle was obviously desperate, his eyebrows furrowed, biting his lower lip. He glanced at Stan, blinking at him. “Faster, please,” he rasped.
Stan concentrated, gripping Kyle’s waist. He was glad Kyle was smaller and lighter than he was - it was easier to handle him, move him with each thrust. Stan sped up, managing to pick Kyle up off the bed an inch or two to get a better angle.
Kyle’s low moans steadily got louder, filling the room along with Stan’s grunts. With a decent amount of effort, he hauled himself up to reach Stan’s shoulders, connecting his hands behind Stan’s neck. “Fuck, h-here, sit,” Kyle muttered. Stan understood what he wanted. He flipped them around, so that it was Stan sitting on the bed. Kyle’s thighs clenched around Stan’s waist, his palms flat on Stan’s shoulders. He cried out in pleasure as he sat down on Stan’s cock fully, inhaling sharply.
“Better?” Stan asked. Kyle nodded feebly, resting his head on Stan’s shoulder. “Mm-hmm,” he hummed, arching his back.
Kyle used his knees to push himself up, lifting his ass off Stan’s lap before sitting back down heavily. “Fuck!” he shouted. “Stan!”
Stan needed that. His body shuddered. He lifted up Kyle and slammed him back down, making the sweet sound of skin on skin contact. Stan readjusted his grip on Kyle so that both hands are holding his ass, surely leaving the same red marks that marred his waist. Kyle whined, pulling himself up and pushing back down. It was clear he needed more friction than he was getting, and Stan was more than happy to oblige.
Regaining focus, Stan hoisted Kyle up off his cock. For a moment, he mourned the loss of wet heat, but it returned in no time when Kyle was lowered again. Kyle released a shrill wail, throwing his head back. “Fuck, Stan!” he moaned. “G-god, do that again, please,” he panted, grasping Stan’s shoulders for balance.
Stan knew what he wanted. As fast as he could manage, he lifted Kyle’s limp body up, then sat him back down. Stan angled himself so he hit that spot inside Kyle with every thrust, making the smaller boy cry out with pleasure.
“Fuck, yes, Stan!” Kyle screamed, digging his nails into Stan’s skin. Stan grit his teeth, focusing entirely on Kyle’s facial expression. His mouth was agape, and he was drooling a bit, definitely numb from shock. Every time he was bounced on Stan’s dick, his hair recoiled with the movement, red curls standing out even in the dark. His eyes soon met Stan’s, pale green on dark blue. The slapping of skin echoed in Stan’s ears and around the room, fading in with the incomprehensible moans and whines from both of them. Suddenly, everything was so much, every sensation became overwhelming, a flash of unbearable heat taking over his whole body. He registered it all too late.
“Oh my god, Kyle, I’m coming!” Stan yelled. There wasn’t enough time to warn him any farther or pull him off his dick before he did.
“Stan!” Kyle cried, unable to say anything else. Without much warning, Kyle came, white liquid spurting from his tip, coating Stan’s clothed torso.
That gave Stan the last edge he needed. With a low moan, he came inside Kyle with one final thrust, feeling the sweet release wash over him. Without thinking about it, he rode Kyle through his orgasm, loosely pumping his half hard dick.
Neither of the boys said a word as Kyle climbed off Stan’s lap, collapsing down on the bed. Stan’s cum leaked from between Kyle’s legs, but both of them decided to ignore that. They’d clean up later. Stan laid next to Kyle, paying no attention to his cum-soaked shirt. For a while, they lay there in silence, trying to catch their breath, letting reality sink in.
“Shit, Kyle.”
“Yeah, shit.”
“So, what does this mean for…us?”
Kyle paused, thinking. Stan’s whole body felt tense waiting for his answer.
“Do you, uh, wanna date, or something?”
Stan heaved a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Dating sounds good. Super good.”