Chapter Text
Stan bounded into his dorm room and threw himself down on the bed, seemingly not the least bit surprised to find Kyle there.
“Wendy hasn’t written.”
Kyle didn’t look up from his psych book. “Dude, it’s been a week.”
“Exactly! It’s been a whole week, Kyle!”
Kyle groaned and tapped his highlighter against his book. “If you keep this up, I’m gonna start hanging out in Cartman’s room.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I dunno,” Kyle said thoughtfully, chewing on the cap of his highlighter. “He gives a mean blowjob.”
Stan groaned loudly and Kyle didn’t have to look over to know he was covering his face with his hands. “I still can’t believe you did that. Do you have any idea how many points you lost with me?”
“So you tell me on a near daily basis,” Kyle replied, permanently bored.
“It was a big deal!” Stan exclaimed.
Kyle turned a page in his book. He already knew all about Freud. This shit was rudimentary, at best.
“It was six weeks ago and it was drunken hate-sex,” he said, swallowing hard around the slight lie.
He could hear Stan shifting, sitting up. “You still think about it, though.”
Now Kyle did look up, exasperated. “Dude, why the fuck are we talking about this? I thought we were talking about Wendy.”
Stan shrugged. “You didn’t want to talk about Wendy.”
“No, I didn’t want to listen to you whine about Wendy. And guess what; I don’t want to talk about Cartman, either.”
Stan snorted and picked up a handball from the bedside table, tossing it from one palm to the other. “I can’t believe he hasn’t asked you on a date yet.”
Kyle tossed down his highlighter, mind racing, defenses up. “Dude, what the fuck? It. Was. One. Night.” He was hating himself right now, lying and hating himself.
“He’s obsessed with you,” Stan pointed out, voice indignant.
“I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Kyle turned to a clean page in his notebook and began writing down his chapter notes.
“Kenny told me that Cartman asked you out.”
Kyle’s jaw clenched and the pen he’d picked up fell from his slack grasp.
He looked at Stan, calmly. “So that whole ‘I can’t believe he hasn’t asked you out’ was what? Your passive aggressive attempt at seeing what I’d say?”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Stan said, but at least had the decency to look chagrinned. Kyle was aware he was totally being a hypocrite right now. “And maybe.”
Kyle sighed. “Yes, Stan, he asked me out. I said no. Okay?”
Stan swung his legs off the bed and planted his feet on the floor. “Why?”
Kyle’d had enough. He slammed his book shut and looked up, angrily. “Why don’t you tell me, since apparently Kenny can’t be trusted for shit.”
He watched as Stan’s feet tapped nervously on the floor. “He said you’d told Cartman you were in love with someone else.”
Kyle nodded, rapidly. “Right. So, apparently Kenny has turned into a gossiping little bitch.”
“Kyle,” Stan said seriously. “Is it true?”
“Yes, it’s fucking true.” Kyle felt his face heat and he rose from the desk and walked over to the mini fridge for a bottle of water.
“You never asked me what the letter to Wendy said.”
Kyle didn’t know where this was going. He took a large gulp of water. “Lovey-dovey shit, I assumed. I mean who the hell writes actual letters anymore, Stan?”
“Someone’s who’s too terrified to break-up with someone in person or over the phone. Kyle spit out the water from his mouth and onto the carpet.
“Dude, weak!” Stan exclaimed.
Kyle turned slowly to face him. “You broke up with Wendy.”
It wasn’t a question but Stan still responded, “yes.”
“Via letter."
“Yes.”
Kyle ran his gaze over Stan’s body. He was stiff, braced as if for a blow.
“And you’ve been freaking out over not getting a response because you think she’s on her way from New York to kill you.”
“Basically,” Stan nodded. “Also because I can’t really… start something else until she does. Call me old-fashioned.” His tone was self-depreciating.
“Uh-huuuh,” Kyle said slowly. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you kissed me over a week ago and we’ve been pretending it didn’t happen?”
_____________________
It was two Fridays ago now. They’d gone to a party in Kenny’s frat (Kyle still couldn’t believe he was in a frat) and both drank a lot more than they’d planned from the keg. They stumbled back to their dorm together and couldn’t make it all the way up, just stopped in the stairwell and collapsed, arm in arm. Stan had laughed against his cheek and Kyle felt he could fall asleep right there and then. Except Stan started singing under his breath.
“Stop it,” Kyle slurred. “You always get songs stuck in my head.”
“You would kill for this, just a little bit, just a little bit,” Stan sang, purposely louder.
Kyle grunted. “It isn’t 2002 anymore. Who randomly sings that song?”
“Came on my iPod before we left tonight.”
He continued humming while Kyle pulled Stan’s hat down over his eyes.
“Fuck off,” Stan said through his laughter, swatting at Kyle’s hand and fixing his hat. Their eyes met and Kyle’s breath caught in his throat. It was probably just the alcohol that caused Stan’s eyes to be darker than night, all pupil. Probably the beer that caused him to stare at Kyle like he was something wondrous and new.
“Kyle,” Stan whispered, choked, and then surged forward and kissed him, slack mouthed and trembling lips. Kyle wasn’t sure how long it went on. Long enough for him to grip Stan’s upper thigh and feel the muscles jump beneath his hand. Long enough for their tongues to brush repeatedly and lick at one another’s mouths until their lips were slick with spit and groans were escaping through them.
And then Stan pulled back and looked Kyle like he’d just seen a ghost, and said, “I. Fuck, I’m really drunk.”
“Yeah,” Kyle agreed, although he suddenly never felt more sober. They’d staggered to their respective rooms, which just happened to be on the same floor. Kyle said, “My roommate’s…did you want…?”
Kyle didn’t, because he couldn’t handle another platonic night, not when Stan had finally made a move and was now probably just thinking of Wendy and regret when he should have been doing that all along.
“No thanks.”
They didn’t talk about it the next day and instead fought about stupid shit that had to do with video games and differing film tastes and it’d seemed like Stan just wanted to pick fights left and right so Kyle just ignored him and read a book until Stan finally got the hint and left.
Kyle jerked off twice afterward and still couldn’t get the pent up energy out of his system. Somehow, he’d found himself at Cartman’s door.
Cartman had a single. He’d managed to convince the school he had psychological problems and couldn’t handle living with someone else. They lied on their stomachs and played hockey on X-Box while Cartman called him a fucking dirty-ass Jew and Kyle called him a racist fat-ass. Somewhere between the second and third period, Cartman kissed him. Or maybe he kissed Cartman. They hadn’t talked about that one night over a month ago and Kyle would’ve been sure Cartman had forgotten it in a drunken stupor if he hadn’t seen how he looked at him sometimes, like he was recalling every moment of that evening in vivid Technicolor. So they kissed and Kyle knew it had a lot to do with his Stan frustration but he couldn’t care.
Except that near-closed mouths kisses with their controllers in their hands as they were propped up on their elbows soon became frantic making out; his body pulled on top of Cartman, a thick thigh between his legs while Cartman’s hands skimmed broadly up and down his back, beneath his shirt.
Kyle gasped and pulled his mouth away. “We should stop.”
“What the fuck for?”
He couldn’t think with Cartman’s lips hot against his chin, biting softly.
Kyle sat back on his knees and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Because this is the worst idea ever.”
Cartman moved his leg that Kyle was still straddling and rubbed at Kyle’s groin with it rhythmically, punctuating his words with each movement. “On the contrary, I think it’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea.”
Kyle pursed his lips together. “I disagree.”
“Of course you do,” Cartman said and then tugged Kyle down and latched onto his neck. Kyle had moaned against his will.
“This is so stupid,” Kyle said, and thought of Stan’s lips on his. He groaned in frustration and sat back again, trying to ignore his throbbing erection. Cartman sighed loudly and palmed Kyle’s chest.
“It’s not. In fact, I think you should go out with me.”
Kyle’s eyes jerked to Cartman’s and his mouth fell open. There were times in which Cartman was sincere, even vulnerable. This was one of them.
Kyle looked down at Cartman’s hands and placed his own over them, removing them from his chest but not letting go. “Cartman, I. I can’t.”
Cartman pulled his hands away. “You can’t or you don’t want to?” His voice was hard.
Kyle met his eyes again, pulse jumping in his throat. “I’m in love with someone else.” He was well aware of how he’d evaded the question.
“The fucking hippie,” he said, no hint of question in his voice. He didn’t wait for Kyle to confirm. “You know he’ll never leave Testaburger.”
“Yeah,” Kyle agreed.
Cartman looked at him, surprised, not expecting the quite defeat in his voice. “Soooo… explain to me why we shouldn’t fuck each other’s brains out?”
Cartman’s hand had trailed up his leg, resting on his thigh. Kyle sighed. “Because that’s not all this would be and you proved that a few seconds ago.”
Cartman fell back against the headboard and rubbed his hands over his face, laughing. “Fuck, I have such a big mouth.”
Kyle moved to sit next to him, their thighs touching. “Yeah, you do.”
What he didn’t say was that he it wouldn’t just be fucking for him either. That he could… god, he could see himself giving Cartman a chance. Things were so different now from when they were kids. High school had really mellowed Cartman out.
“I probably could’ve gotten in your pants tonight, too, you fuckin’ Jew.”
Kyle grinned and elbowed him. “It’s possible.”
Kyle turned his head and found Cartman’s face right next to his, a mix of embarrassment and arousal clouding his gaze. “You’re gonna have to leave unless you really are up for some no-strings attached sex tonight.” He looked pointedly at Kyle’s crotch. “You look like you could use it.”
Kyle worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s not fair to you, dude.”
Cartman laughed, a little meanly. “Jew, if it meant fucking your ass, you could use me for sex all throughout school.”
Kyle’s dick had twitched at the words and the air felt too hot around them. He watched as Cartman pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, mouth open and lewd. Part of him wanted to correct Cartman, tell him it wouldn’t exactly be using. But that wasn’t fair either. Not when he wasn’t willing to just give up on Stan, regardless of the reality of them ever getting together.
Kyle shuddered hard. “Just um… fuck, just one last time?”
Cartman licked his lips slowly and Kyle’s eyes felt hot and heavy.
“But no fucking,” he added. That was… well, that just wasn’t on the table.
Cartman rolled his eyes. “Get the fuck over here,” and then pulled Kyle into his arms and kissed him until his lips were raw. They barely got their mouths on each other’s dicks before they were coming, gasping around hot flesh.
Cartman kissed his knee, his thigh. “Jesus christ. You fuckin’ sure you want Marsh?”
Kyle laughed and rested his damp forehead against Cartman’s torso. “It’s not fair to ask me that right now.” Honestly, Kyle wasn’t sure what he’d say.
Cartman ran his fingers over Kyle’s ass. “I could fuck you so good you’d forget his name.”
Kyle impossibly felt his cock give a half-hearted jerk. He laughed and it sounded pathetic to his own ears. “I really doubt that’d be the case.”
The thing was; the euphoria of incredible sex wore off after a few minutes. Kyle’s loved Stan for years.
“Yeah, who am I kidding – that fucking Eternal Sunshine machine probably couldn’t make you forget.”
Kyle winced and wished that statement weren’t totally true.
Once dressed and at Cartman’s door, Kyle looked back. He was still naked and lighting up a cigarette. “Hey, Cartman?” he said, voice tentative.
Cartman looked away from the TV and at Kyle. “Yeah, Jew?”
“I’m really not anything special.”
Cartman snorted and waved a hand in the air, dismissively. “Tell myself that every day.”
Kyle felt something tighten in his chest. “This was really fun.”
Cartman rolled his eyes and looked back at the screen. “Maybe you should just try this thing with Stan once and for all. Make the dream a reality.”
“That’s not possible,” he said, and left.
___________________
The next day, he’d told Kenny about the Cartman thing. And he couldn’t stop thinking about how if he hadn’t been crazy about Stan, he’d actually consider going on a date. Their first hook-up had definitely been angry hate-sex but the second hadn’t and they didn’t really hate each other, not since both of their adolescent tempers had mellowed out.
He and Stan didn’t talk about the kiss and Kyle and Cartman didn’t talk about the sex and that was fine. Kyle knew Cartman wouldn’t shoot for more unless he was given the go-ahead, anyway. The Stan thing, well, he didn’t exactly expect anything different.
For the past week, Stan had been talking about this letter he’d sent Wendy and how it was ‘important.’ He didn’t want to know why it was ‘important.’ Honestly, Stan was the type of guy who might actually propose in a letter, complete with a mix tape and hand-made drawings.
Except he hadn’t. Instead, he was standing before Kyle telling him he’d broken up with her and Kyle needed to know if their recent kiss was a catalyst.
In response to Kyle’s question, Stan said, “Well, yeah, it’s… it has to do with that.”
Kyle returned to the desk and sat down, staring at his hands. “I’m not interested in being your rebound, Stan,” he said, finally and then glanced up at him.
Stan waved his hands dramatically. “How can you be a rebound when we kissed while I was still with her? I broke up with her for you.”
Kyle felt his nerves on edge. “And why did you kiss me, now, after all this time? Why are you doing this now? Because I fucking fooled around with Cartman and you can’t handle that?”
Hurt flashed in Stan’s eyes as he stood up and took a step closer. “I kissed you because I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever and I realized that I just haven’t been missing Wendy like I should and all I think about is being in your room or you being in my room and us lying on the bed next to each other and sharing my Ipod headphones while you bury your nose in a book and I pretend to be playing Words with Friends on my phone while I’m really just breathing in your smell and trying not to think about how badly I want you.”
Kyle’s heart was pounding by the time Stan was done rambling. He shook his head, still frustrated. “But why now? We’ve been like that for years, man.”
Stan came to stand in front of the desk and looked down at Kyle. “I dunno, dude. I’ve just been… I’ve been fucking scared, okay? Things are comfortable with Wendy, and even more so without her here… it’s uncomplicated. With you, I just… I’ll fuck it up, Kyle, and lose you completely.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “No, you won’t.”
“And… maybe it did have a little to do with Cartman. I was shocked when I heard he asked you out. It was more that he actually took the risk. I realized… I needed to do the same thing.”
Kyle felt guilty for his earlier deception. “I fooled around with him again,” he blurted out. “I didn’t want to tell you because you freaked out so much the first time.”
He watched Stan swallow hard and blink a few times. “Oh. I, uh. Kyle, if I’m too late, well. I mean, it would serve me right.”
Kyle reached out touched Stan’s leg. “You’re not too late,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I told him nothing could really happen there. It’s just an… itch to scratch on my part.”
It was… almost the truth.
Stan nodded but his eyes were still averted. “Do you plan on scratching that itch some more?”
Kyle stood up and put his hands on Stan’s shoulders. “Cut the shit, Stan, you know I’ve been love with you forever.”
“Love is different from sex,” Stan muttered.
Kyle tilted his chin up. “Fine, then I’ll tell you something stupidly romantic but just this once, okay?”
Stan nodded, gaze still weary.
Kyle tightened his fingers on Stan’s shoulders and breathed out, “I’ve never let anyone fuck me. I’ve been foolishly saving that for you, you ass.”
Stan kept staring at him and then his mouth quirked up. “That was your romantic declaration?”
Kyle glared. “Shut up, Stan.”
Stan’s Kyle just widened more. “I mean really, Kyle, insulting me isn’t exactly ‘romantic.’”
“Did you miss the other part, you ‘tard?”
Stan was smiling with teeth now and linking their fingers together from where Kyle’s hand rested on his shoulder. “No, I didn’t. I was kind of actually hoping we could get right on that unless you have some more insults to shovel out.”
Kyle leaned forward and kissed him, hard, and Stan groaned immediately, their bodies melting together as they backed their way towards Stan’s bed.
Kyle’s left hand pushed at Stan’s shirt while his right started working on his jeans, when he suddenly remembered. “Fuck dude, what about not doing this until you hear back from Wendy?”
Stan broke away from where he was sucking what would certainly be a spectacular hickey into Kyle’s neck.
“Ah, shit.”
Kyle groaned, removed his hands and fell onto the mattress beside Stan.
Just then, Stan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and laughed incredulously.
He showed his phone to Kyle. The message read:
Who sends Dear John letters anymore? Well, then, I can send a text, can’t I? Tell Kyle I’m surprised it took you this long.
“Talk about timing…” Kyle said.
Stan looked at the text again. “I did love her, you know. I just love you a shitload more.”
Kyle kicked his ankle against Stan’s. “Is that supposed to be romantic?”
“You know it is,” Stan said, mouth already back at Kyle’s neck. Kyle pushed him back onto the bed, his hands reclaiming their position.
Stan’s mouth felt amazing on his skin and when his hands slid beneath Kyle’s jeans and gripped his cheeks firmly, pulling their bodies close together and kneading the flesh of Kyle’s ass, he shuddered hard.
“You want me inside you?” Stan whispered as he flicked his tongue at the shell of Kyle’s ear.
“More than anything,” he sighed, breathlessly.
They took their time peeling one another out of their clothes, like this hadn’t been building since they were teenagers. Stan slid down Kyle’s body and suckled the head of his cock, just mouthing, lips loose and without real intent. Kyle arched his back and let it go on until he could no longer stand it.
He wasn’t sure if Stan had ever done this before, honestly had never wanted to know, but it was good, it was great, and Kyle had to push him off or he’d be done for already. They kissed a lot, naked bodies thrusting together. It was hot and kind of perfect because that’s what love did; it made everything better.
When Stan pushed inside, Kyle’s head dropped back against his shoulder. Stan’s mouth immediately found the base of his neck and he licked at Kyle’s skin softly. Kyle knew Stan could feel his rapid pulse, could hear his chest heaving. They did it on their sides, with Stan plastered to his back and Kyle’s leg bent upward, secured by Stan’s arm.
When they started to move, Kyle felt nothing but jolts of pleasure shooting out of every nerve-ending of his body.
Stan sighed softly in his ear and kept saying things like, “You feel so fucking good, how can you feel this good?” while Kyle just moaned and arched and jerked himself off while whispering Stan’s name.
Afterwards, they kissed until they couldn’t breathe and then came again, rutting together and sighing against one another’s lips.
“You’re incredible,” Stan said, voice like gravel in his ear.
Kyle just grinned against his chest. “I guess I can’t be pissed off at Kenny anymore.”
Stan kissed his shoulder. “It wasn’t Kenny.”
Kyle frowned and raised his head. “Huh? But I told him… if not him, how did you…”
Stan looked at him pointedly and Kyle’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“I was sure it was some trick, so then I did call Kenny to confirm.”
“But why would he…”
“He told me to tell you he has a big mouth and he’d decided it was ‘time.’ If that’s something sexual, I don’t want to know.”
Kyle couldn’t really think, much less breathe. That… Cartman doing that. Well, fuck. Kyle felt a fondness stir inside him, felt something so bittersweet.
He rolled away from Stan, burying half his face in the pillow.
“Hey,” Stan said tentatively. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Kyle said thickly, clearing his throat. “Just uh, thinking about how it seems Cartman’s the romantic one in this scenario.” He laughed a little but it sounded weak even to his own ears. He reached out for Stan, linking their fingers together. “How’s that even possible?”
Stan’s dragged his tongue across Kyle’s shoulder blade. “Anything’s possible, Kyle.”
Kyle was beginning to realize that was true.
He also was beginning to feel something he never thought he would, after finally getting what he thought he’d always wanted: regret.