Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7829458.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      South_Park
  Relationship:
      Kyle_Broflovski/Stan_Marsh
  Additional Tags:
      Dom/sub, South_Park:_The_Stick_of_Truth, Rimming, Blow_Jobs, Subspace,
      Light_BDSM
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-08-21 Words: 5731
****** To Serve ******
by mattysones
Summary
     "My lord?" He adds a little more quietly to make sure they're still
     playing this game.
Notes
     What do you mean I've posted this before
Kyle doesn't break character when they leave the battlefield behind Craig's
house. Stan shivers when he notices, because it means that Kyle is probably in
THAT kind of mood. Kyle had been particularly vicious tonight while acting as a
diplomat between King Cartman and Master Thief Feldspar.
Stan feels sort of dorky walking down the sidewalk in his Ranger gear, even if
he's proud that the costume has become better over the years.
Sparky, bless him, is an old fat dog now, but is waddling along at his best
pace. Stan is sad to see his companion animal get weaker. Sparky is wearing a
fabulous blue, paisley scarf tonight.
"What are your plans for the rest of the night?" Stan asks, "My lord?" He adds
a little more quietly to make sure they're still playing this game. Sometimes
Stan has to make it clear that he's done. Tonight isn't one of those nights.
They're both seventeen and they've been fooling around for years, actual sex
happening in the recent year, with their LARPing inevitably taking a small
roll.
The glance Kyle sends him is burning, and Stan knows he's read Kyle correctly,
"I desire a bath and rest," Kyle responds loftily, "I believe your commanders
and the she-ghoul are absent, presently? Would you assist me?"
The request is a command, but Kyle is really asking. He's also referring to
Stan's parents and Shelly, who are out at some musical tonight. Stan had
declined attendence.
"Yes, my lord," Stan confirms, and watches Kyle's cheeks flush. Stan smiles
slightly, "My home is yours."
If Stan knows Kyle, and he does, Kyle had planned for tonight. The bookbag Kyle
had left at Stan's house would have everything they needed. Stan's parents
wouldn't mind if he made use of their insanely large master bathtub either, as
long as Stan didn't leave a mess.
Stan unlocks his house door and ushers in Kyle and Sparky. Sparky is
immediately sent to the backyard and Stan sees Kyle already ascending the
staircase, red robe trailing behind him. Stan thinks that he should have gone
first to check for enemies. He shakes his head and follows.
When Stan catches up Kyle is rifling through his book bag and Stan is unsure of
how to proceed.
"I want you to wait on me," Kyle says, not looking beind him.
Kyle had mentioned a bath. Stan is suddenly nervous and excited, "Okay," he
says, "We can use the big bathtub."
Kyle stands holding some bath supplies, looking a little more unsure than
before. Stan approaches him and holds out his hands for the bottles. Kyle has
two inches on him, but Stan is heavier and stockier. Stan looks up at him,
"Shall we go, my lord?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah." Kyle breathes, moving to lead the way in the house they've both known
for a long time. Stan hangs back long enough to remove his helmet, but leaves
on his cape.
When they're in the bathroom, Kyle moves to sit on the double-sink counter
while Stan carefully lines the bottles on the tub's edge.
"While the water is running," Kyle orders with a slight shake in his voice, "I
want you to undress me."
Stan feels a smirk crawling across his face from Kyle's uncertainty, but is
glad that Kyle had decided to dictate their game. Stan isn't sure he would know
what to do otherwise - the bath is a new element in their game, "Alright," he
agrees quietly, and he sees Kyle visibily relax. That Kyle is nervous makes
Stan a little more confident, and after turning the hot water full blast, he
turns to tend to Kyle.
Kyle watches him with green eyes, bright and eager. Stan kneels and starts
working on Kyle's boots, unlacing them so they don't untie completely and
pulling them away. The socks are next, Stan running a hand up Kyle's calves to
steady his legs and to hear the intake of breath from above him. The socks end
stuffed in the boots. Stan takes a moment to wash his hands of the foot smell
before standing and not meeting Kyle's eyes, tugs the robe belt loose.
Stan pulls the untied belt taut around Kyle's waist and pulls so their hips
meet. Stan is taller with Kyle sitting, so he looks down, "I need you to
stand," He requests quietly.
Kyle makes a noise and starts to move, "Back up," he returns in an uneffected
voice, meeting Stan's eyes. Stan wants to kiss him. Instead he backs away to
give Kyle room.
Stan carefully unties the strings in the red and gold robe, letting it fall
open. Kyle holds his arms out patiently as Stan pulls the sleeves of the robe
off, folding the robe into a messy lump and setting it to the side.
Kyle is wearing a cotton tunic and pants that Stan's mom had made. After
setting the robe to the side, Stan returns and touches the fabric at the hem of
Kyle's tunic. He feels a bit guilty for sullying the purpose of the costume his
mother had sewn. Kyle doesn't seem to notice Stan's debate as he fidgets, hands
flexing at his sides while Stan takes his time actually removing the tunic.
He leans into Kyle's collar bone, breathing on Kyle's neck just to feel the
shudder he knew would get. Kyle smells like sweat, and it doesn't smell good
but it's his smell.
"Lift your arms," Stan says, and Kyle obeys. Stan throws the tunic on top of
the robe, returning his hands to Kyle's waist almost immediately. They're both
looking down between them, and Stan rubs his fingers along the edge of his
pants. Kyle leans his hands against the counter, arching just slightly and Stan
smiles.
Stan turns to check on the water.
Kyle makes an annoyed noise as he watches Stan touch the water in the mostly
full bathtub, "You're an asshole," he grouses.
"Why's that?" Stan asks coyly, unable to stop smiling.
Kyle's eyebrows knit together in a scowl, "Because you're an asshole," he
slumps fully against the counter.
Stan bites his lip to keep from completely grinning. He shuts off the water,
and stands to face Kyle, brushing his black hair out of his own face. His
parents' mirror reminds him that he is also gross and sweaty.
"Sorry," Stan says, without sounding remotely sorry. He kneels again, slipping
his fingers in the waistband of Kyle's boxers and pants. Kyle makes a surprised
noise and braces himself, his own fingers grabbing the counter harder, "I only
wish to serve you," Stan says.
"Jesus," Kyle breathes, and Stan is slipping Kyle's pants away. Kyle isn't
hard, but he's interested, and Stan purposely putting his face to Kyle's groin
isn't helping. Is helping. Everything is good.
Kyle steps to help Stan pull away his pants, and the pants are added to the
clothes pile. Stan puts his hands on the outsides of Kyle's skinny thighs,
pressing a kiss to his hip. Kyle releases a breath that wants to be moan. Stan
stands, backing away but still looking, admiring Kyle in the nude. Even with
Stan still clothed, Kyle doesn't feel vulnerable; He feels powerful and his
heart beats a little faster as he watches Stan defer, silently waiting for his
next order.
"Help me in the tub," Kyle says, "And wash me."
Stan hums and nods, hovering as Kyle places himself in the obscenely large
bathtub. Once Kyle is settled Stan kneels at the side, "What first?" he asks,
sure that Kyle has his own routine.
Kyle's eyes are half-lidded from the hot water, "Good," he murmurs lazily,
reaching out to touch Stan's bangs, "Hair first, then body."
Stan nods, "Scoot forward so I can dunk you," he says.
"You're getting bossy," Kyle responds, but moves forward anyway, leaning back
into Stan's hands as Stan guides him into the water. Stan feels like this is a
trust fall, and part of him wants to shove Kyle under, but the bigger part of
himself is transfixed by this ... thing that they're doing. Kyle is keeping
himself from being submerged by leaning on his elbows. He's had to bend his
knees and is laying half-curled in the bathtub, red curls floating between
Stan's fingers.
Stan makes sure Kyle's forehead is wet, and tugs him up to sit. Kyle follows,
rubbing water out of his eyes as he sits.
Stan reaches for the shampoo and squirts some on his his fingers, rearranging
himself so he's more behind Kyle than beside him. He digs his fingers into
Kyle's hair, smiling when Kyle moans unconciously.
They continue, and neither of them are really aroused, just caught in the
strange, quiet moment between them. Stan is sure that neither of them are
acting at this point. He doesn't want to have to explain why scrubbing Kyle
clean gives him a happy, affectionate thrill.
He feels like this is as normal as they have ever been together; Kyle bossing
him around and sometimes Stan just goes for the ride. Kyle gives him allowances
because he wants Stan happy, and Stan is happy that Kyle is sharing this secret
part of himself. Stan might be sharing too - he doesn't want to overthink
anything.
"Ug," Kyle squirms when Stan has finished scrubbing him with a loofa, "Run the
water while the tub's draining. Bathwater leaves me gross."
Stan does as Kyle asks and fetches a new rag to rinse Kyle off again. Kyle ends
up taking over to actually clean himself.
Stan watches, sad he's not touching anymore, "Sorry," he mumbles, feeling as
though he failed his assignment.
"You did a good job," Kyle says dismissivl, drying behind his ears, "It's just,
ya know, bathwater."
"I didn't use that anti-frizz stuff you use either," Stan adds.
Kyle shrugs, and then seems satisfied and takes a good look at Stan, "I want
you to shower too," he says, wrinkling his nose and everything feels a little
more normal, "You sweat like, ten times more than me."
Stan smirks a little, "Well sorry, defending your kingdom gets me sweaty."
"Only because my kingdom is the best and has the most competition," Kyle says
imperiously. He stands, giving Stan a good eyefull of his crotch, before
stepping out and grabbing the towel Stan had brought, "I'll get the clothes.
You shower."
Stan hums his acknowledgement, and finishes tidying his parents' bathroom
before moving to the shower he and Shelly share.
Stan enters his room still damp and wearing only a towel around his hips and
one on his shoulders. Kyle is half-sleeping on his bed, wrapped in the dark
blue robe that Randy had given Stan but ended being Kyle's. Kyle's hair has
started to puff in defiance, and he'll end up looking lop-sided and squashed,
but Stan couldn't care less. He waits for Kyle to open his eyes sleepily,
relaxed and clean. Kyle's eyes seem to be bright with his burning green, and
Stan can feel himself being sucked under, immeaditately ready for whatever Kyle
wants from him.
“Come here,” Kyle demands, and Stan is moving across his own room, and starts
to sit on the edge of his bed, “I didn't say the bed,” Kyle sniffs, “Kneel.”
Stan looks at Kyle uncertainly but does as he bids, towel still around his
shoulders. Kyle sits and throws his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for
the towel and gently patting away the residual water droplets trailing Stan's
shoulders, “You work so hard for me,” Kyle says approvingly, “I ask for so much
from you.”
Stan's eyes slide shut, absorbed, “I follow you willingly, my lord.”
“I know,” Kyle says. He sets the towel aside, and trails his fingers through
Stan's dark hair. Stan looks up at him. “That's why I want to do something for
you. But first,” Kyle tugs open the robe and presents his soft cock, “I want
you to serve me once more.”
Stan's head feels fuzzy as he leans forward and lays his hands on Kyle's spread
thighs, opens his mouth to take his cock in his mouth, reveling in the feel of
flesh on his tongue. He almost feels protective when Kyle is soft and waiting
for him, when he still can be cradled by his tongue. Stan hums contentedly, and
focuses on the task given to him - something simple, something they both want.
Kyle leans back on his hands, lounging and watching with an expression that's
partially smug, mostly affectionate, and makes Stan feel wanted in a way he
didn't know he needed. Kyle has told Stan in the past that sometimes he can't
believe Stan will get on his knees for him, that they're together at all. Stan
can't bring himself to say that he feels peaceful like this, that the jump
between best friends and lovers wasn't too big for him. He thinks Kyle still
struggles sometimes. Stan doesn't mind, for now.
The heat that fills him comes from feeling Kyle's cock thickening in his mouth,
the way Kyle watches him as though he's doing the most menial task. Stan has to
raise himself to follow Kyle's rising cock, to continue lapping at the head
until Kyle's mostly hard against his lips.
Stan takes him in and presses his tongue hard against the flare, the way he
knows Kyle likes, and Kyle releases a quiet moan. Stan rubs his tongue there
until his mouth starts to hurt.
He glances up to see Kyle's lips parted and pink starting to flush his cheeks.
He ducks his head to take the length further inside, until he feels the brush
against back of his throat. He would make a noise at that gentle pressure but
Kyle groans on his behalf and Stan has to pause long enough to remember how to
breathe.
Kyle's fingers brush the underside of his neck and Stan shivers, moving back
into action with a bob and a swirl of his tongue. Kyle breathes harshly, once,
pumping his hips up to follow. Stan is thrown off enough to reach and push
Kyle's hips back to the bed, pulling back enough to swallow and recover. Kyle
allows it but tugs at Stan's head to bring him back and Stan kisses his cock
apologetically.
He's not quite ready yet so he ducks to the loose flesh between Kyle's cock and
balls. It doesn't always work, but sometimes Kyle is sensitive there. Tonight
seems to be the right time as he buries his face, senses filled with Kyle's
scent, dragging his tongue from balls to dick.
Stan doesn't stop when Kyle has given up on sitting and leans back on his
elbows, head tilted back. Kyle's chest raises with his deep breaths, absorbed
in the feelings Stan is giving him, the fact his cock pressing against his
belly and his body giving needy pulses the longer Stan licks and kisses and
sucks his sensitive flesh.
Kyle wants Stan lower, and indicates this by tucking his own hands beneath him,
spreading his ass and presenting himself. Stan doesn't notice until Kyle bucks
his hips to jolt Stan out of whatever reverie he's in. Stan looks up, confused,
before he understands what's being asked and he doesn't respond except to move
Kyle's hands out of the way and spread Kyle himself.
Kyle moans loudly the moment feels Stan's tongue dart lightly over his asshole;
He's clean or otherwise he wouldn't ask, and he rarely does, but Stan's in that
weird haze he sometimes gets into when they're like this and Stan probably
would have oblidged no matter what. Something about knowing that makes Kyle
harder, makes him want to be more open for more than just Stan's tongue laving
at him in firm, circular laps.
Worshipping him.
Kyle feels like his nerves are on fire when Stan sucks, and Kyle's cock
dribbles against his belly, balls pulling tight and Kyle arches and moans,
muscles stretching. He sort of wants Stan to work on his nipples, but he's
afraid he'll come from that, and he has other plans.
'"Stop," Kyle groans. Stan doesn't hear and pulls Kyle's balls into his mouth.
Kyle shudders and has to grab the base of his dick to keep from coming. He
pulls Stan off him with his other hand and Stan is looking at him with that
glazed expression that Kyle is never quite sure what to do with.
Kyle sits, still holding himself harder than necassary, but he can't help
petting Stan's hair and rubbing his tip against Stan's lips gently. Stan
presents his tongue obediently and Kyle wants to fuck his face again.
"Goddamn, I love your mouth," Kyle murmurs, brushing his thumb against Stan's
cheek. Stan's eyes shut. "Stand."
Stan stands and wobbles a bit. His towel is still tied around his waist despite
the prominent erection pulling at the cloth. Kyle smiles and tugs at the towel
like he's unwrapping a present and he feels like he is; Stan is just for him.
Kyle admires the gift before him - Stan is still growing but he's turned into
all muscle from sports. Kyle is secretly pleased that Stan turned out shorter
by a couple of inches but it's something Stan's becoming self-concious about.
Kyle kisses Stan's cockhead lightly, loving the way Stan seems surprised, the
way the foreskin is drawn back to show how hard he is just from sucking Kyle's
dick. Kyle laps at just the head to thank him, tasting precome, hearing Stan's
sharp breath. Kyle pulls away.
"Go to my bag," Kyle says more to Stan's cock than to Stan. He's pretty sure he
wants to devour Stan in every possible way. "First pocket, there's a tube. Go
get it."
Stan nods and does as Kyle bids, fumbling with the bag a bit before he finds a
tube of lube.
Kyle takes the tube from him and pulls him down to kiss Stan's jawline, not
quite able to to bring himself to kiss Stan's mouth. Stan's neck is sensitive
to the point he can come from Kyle sucking long enough, so Kyle teases him with
a light nuzzle and Stan makes a noise that isn't quite a moan.
"Lay down," Kyle says into Stan's neck, kissing him gently and feeling Stan's
shudder.
Stan pulls away, lust dampened with concern but his eyes are still black with
want, "Kyle--"
"Hmm," Kyle shakes his head and kisses Stan's forehead, "It's 'lord' to you.
Lay down."
Stan settles on the bed. He props himself on his elbows to watch Kyle climb
over his legs to sit on his thighs. Kyle takes a moment to gather himself,
feeling disassociated as he looks down the length of his own body, his paleness
standing in contrast to Stan's slightly darker skin. Stan looks up at him,
waiting patiently and looking at him like there's nothing outside of them and
the bed. The focus Stan has on him sends shivers down Kyle's spine. Stan's cock
is so hard he's leaking. Kyle did that.
Kyle scoots himself up so he can take both their cocks in hand. Stan breathes
out and his eyelids flutter shut as Kyle strokes them, rocking into his hand
and Stan's cock and spreading their precome between them.
Kyle can't help but watch Stan beneath him, the little flushes on his cheeks on
his cheeks, the short gasps and little twitches which seem to stretch through
his entire body. He's happy Stan feels good – he wants to make it better.
“Stan.” Kyle says quietly. He moves his fingers to gently pinch Stan's tip when
he doesn't respond immediately. Stan peers at him slowly, like waking from a
deep sleep. Kyle's mouth quirks into a small smile. “Do you mind if I'm on top
tonight?”
There's a flash of conflict in Stan's eyes as he's really thinking about it –
they're both still new to this sex thing despite their openness with each
other. Stan usually tops simply because they're both more comfortable that way
and because it seems like they haven't had enough time to explore all the
possibilities; They want to try everything.
Kyle likes to be in control occasionally, and Stan is naturally compliant
unless he truly has an issue with something. Kyle feels his heart beat a little
faster when Stan gives him a short nod because Stan letting himself be
particularly vulnerable. There's a moment of anxiety when Kyle isn't sure he
should be the one directing them; Stan's the leader, not him.
Kyle distracts himself by falling into Stan and kissing him until Stan's
grabbing at his shoulders and Kyle feels like they could meld together by the
chest, a feeling that leaves him hot and shaking all over.
Stan seems ready to take over with just his kisses by the time Kyle works the
nerve to ask how he wants it. Stan nips at Kyle's lower lip, meeting Kyle's
eyes and responds by rolling himself over. They rearrange themselves so Kyle is
between Stan's legs and Stan is mostly on his stomach, face pressed into his
crossed arms. Stan is hiding and that's the only way Kyle knows he's still
embarrassed by this. When Kyle leans up to kiss between Stan's shoulder blades
he wants to whisper “thank you” because not for the first time tonight, he
feels like his chest has been torn open by how much Stan is trusting him.
Instead he reaches for the lube and covers his fingers, choking back a nervous
laugh at the squelching sound from the bottle. Stan hears it anyway, and his
shoulders hunch up in a silent laugh, smiling into the mattress.
Kyle pets Stan's shoulders with one hand as he reaches for Stan's ass with his
lubed fingers, and Stan takes a breath, tensing. Kyle can't watch himself do
this for a moment as his fingers rub against Stan's hole, not so much asking
permission as giving him a warning.
Stan's chest hitches when Kyle presses in with two fingers. He hooks them
downward, not prodding deep yet because he's not sure Stan can handle it.
Stan's legs skid out and he releases a nervous moan, hands clenching at the
sheets. Kyle frowns when he realizes Stan's too wound up.
Kyle slows, briefly grabbing Stan's hip with his free hand before reaching to
touch Stan's belly. He feels Stan's erection mostly persisting, even if it's
somewhat lost because of nerves. Stan's eyes close as he focuses.
Kyle keeps his voice soft, “I just want to return the favor.”
Stan turns his head toward Kyle's voice.
Kyle gently pulls at Stan's erection as he starts to twist his fingers, hoping
to coax a warmer reaction from him. “You do so much for me.” He says, “I want
you to know how I feel.” He presses his fingers past the first ring of muscle
and feels only heat and soft flesh.
Stan breathes out hard at the intrusion, mumbles something and Kyle isn't sure
if it's important. He doesn't think it is because Stan gets harder in his hand
as Kyle rubs the pads of his fingers against Stan's insides – his own cock
making a twitch of interest when he thinks about being there, and maybe
whatever Stan mumbled was important because right now Stan is the most
important thing in the world.
Kyle starts to pull at the sphincter around his fingers, smiling when Stan
finally moans deep from his chest. A jolt of arousal lights through Kyle as he
watches Stan flex - a full-body twitch as he finally seems to be letting go of
his nervousness and lets himself relax into Kyle's hand, flushing all over and
Kyle can feel the evidence leaking onto the fingers wrapped around Stan's cock.
He runs his fingers over Stan's cock head, dragging precome over the fleshy tip
and over his own palm. Stan gives his hips a firm pump into Kyle's hand when
Kyle starts stroking him for real. He pushes his fingers into the knuckle,
eager to feel Stan stretched around him in any capacity.
If Stan asks him to stop, he will, but he finally seems actually okay with
what's happening. Kyle releases Stan's cock so he can lean forward to press his
face into Stan's shoulders, breathing the scent of him into his lungs like it's
necessary for survival. Stan moans at the loss, and Kyle changes his pace by
pressing his fingers downwards, thumb brushing down to Stan's perineum. The
pressure doesn't seem to affect Stan the way it does Kyle, but Stan still
shivers and presses back into the touch, starting to move with the steady,
pulsing pace Kyle is setting. Kyle wonders if Stan can get off from just his
fingers, and part of him wants to try.
The other part knows he won't try when Kyle hears a choked whimper catch in
Stan's throat. Kyle tries to mimic the movement that caused the sound, and it
takes a few more tries but Stan finally hisses, “There.”
Kyle grins, pleased with himself, and presses hard.
Stan isn't a screamer, but he's slightly more vocal when he's open like this
and the noises embarrass him. He bites onto his own wrist to muffle the loud
moan that escapes him. In retaliation Kyle sits back on his knees and grabs
Stan's cock again to stroke until a tremor shakes Stan's shoulders and he moans
openly though not quite as loud as when they started. Kyle pulls his fingers
back, knowing too much stimulation will just make Stan too sensitive.
“Are you okay?” Kyle asks, holding Stan open so he can look at the flesh
stretched around his fingers. Stan doesn't seem to notice.
“Yeah.” Stan breathes. He looks over his shoulder, flushed and breathing hard,
“You can try.”
Sometimes it just doesn't work. That's okay.
Kyle nods with a grave kind of seriousness that comes close to an outstanding
orgasm. He gives Stan a final rub before pulling out completely.
He puts his hands on Stan's hips, one lubed palm sliding slightly and the other
Kyle realizes is a little clammy. Both their breathes hitch when Kyle shifts to
drag his cock across Stan's hole. Stan shifts, Kyle assumes to take some of the
strain off his back, and spreads his legs so Kyle can fit more easily.
Kyle grabs his own cock so he can press it against Stan's entrance and push.
His stomach heats with arousal as soon as he breaches him. Kyle distracts
himself by looking at Stan's face, whose brows are knitted in concentration.
Stan is forcing himself to breathe evenly – Kyle can feel Stan's legs shaking
on either side of his and Kyle knows – this part hurts the most, especially
when you're not accustomed to that first pull and slightly pained stretch, no
matter how much you want it or know how good it will feel after. Kyle tries to
push in fast to get past the hard part quicker but Stan grunts at the halfway
point and tells him to stop for a moment.
Kyle shivers and holds on to Stan's hips for dear life, moving back to settle
more on his knees. Stan moans when Kyle's cock shifts angles and mutters at him
to keep going. Stan reaches back to touch Kyle's hip and Kyle moves one hand to
touch him back.
He's completely inside. Stan doesn't seem to realize for a moment until he
notices they've both stopped moving.
When Stan speaks his voice is deep and rough and he lays his face against the
mattress in dazed bliss, “Kyle.”
Kyle takes that as his cue to try moving; He pulls back slowly and thrusts
hard, mildly surprised at the “ha-ah” from Stan's lungs. They both surge
forward with the movement, and Stan quickly scrambles to brace his hands
against the headboard before Kyle can push him face-first into the wood.
The noises Stan makes are unrestrained and Kyle revels in them. He watches Stan
get flustered that he can't stop making them, and reaches to grab a pillow
which has been pushed to the edge of the bed during their shifting and rolling
to put the corner in his mouth.
Kyle allows it but starts fucking him harder in retaliation, borderline
punishment for trying to hide those sounds from him and Stan wails the first
time before gaining some semblance of control and just holds himself still
against the headboard for Kyle to use.
Kyle gasps and mutters some nonsense, mostly calling on his God with swears
until he has to lay himself over Stan's back because he can't hold himself up
on his knees.
Stan moans loudly at the shift, and Kyle reaches to make sure Stan is as hard
as he is.
“Oh fuck.” Stan sobs as soon as Kyle's hand is on his dick, but Kyle doesn't
stay there long because he's coming and can't think of much more than
desperately needing to pump himself into the flesh under him.
Part of Kyle's brain has to return from being scattered into light, collecting
into something coherent and solid. He doesn't take long because he's still hard
and Stan is squirming. Kyle moans, no little part of him pleased that Stan is
actually writhing on his dick. He pulls himself off Stan's back, each others'
sweat sticking to his chest.
As soon as his cock slides out Stan rolls and grabs for him, subconscious
whines in the back of his throat and holy shit Kyle didn't think Stan's cock
was capable of being this hard. Stan is kissing him desperately between a
mantra of "suck me off, holy fuck, finish it, suck me, oh God."
Kyle is confused for a moment between kissing Stan back, but his senses return
and Kyle takes Stan's hands off his shoulders and presses them to Stan's sides
so he can take control of the kisses again. Hr presses heavily with his body
and licks into Stan's mouth until Stan is moaning and turning red at the ears
and neck.
"Calm down." Kyle mutters, moving to kiss Stan's neck. Stan moans weakly and
presses his hips against Kyle's thigh. "I want you to calm down. We're not
finished."
Stan nods deliriously, letting Kyle pet him, bangs stuck to his forehead and
the rest of him shaking from how overwhelmed he is. Kyle watches the bright
look in Stan's eyes calm, but his cock is still hard and flush against his
belly and thighs shaking minutely.
Kyle slides from the bed and Stan watches him, confused and tensing with
distress.
Kyle lays a hand over Stan's eyes and kisses his forehead, “Just a moment. I'll
be back.” With that Kyle moves quickly, feeling Stan's puzzled gaze on his
back.
When he returns he's holding a few damp rags, and Stan isn't as hard as he was
but he's still flushed and waiting. Worried this isn't going to go the way he
wants, he sets aside two of the rags before kneeling next to Stan on the bed.
Stan frowns but seems to understand as he moves over. Kyle hands him the last
rag, leaning in to kiss beneath Stan's jaw, “Clean up your mess.” He orders,
and feels Stan shiver, clenching the cloth in his hand.
Kyle settles back and spreads his legs, exposing himself , soft and sated. Stan
crawls between them obediently to gently wipe as the sweat on Kyle's belly, the
residual lube and cum drying on Kyle's dick. Kyle's breath hitches when Stan
moves to his balls, patting gently at the lube that has slid downward. When
Stan leans in to take Kyle's soft cock in his mouth, Kyle jumps in surprise.
Stan sucks for a moment before retreating to wipe his own saliva away, pausing
to give Kyle another lick before continuing the pretension of cleaning him.
Kyle let's this go on because it feels good, inspiring a lazy heat and twitch
in his belly. He can't get hard again even if he's swelling in Stan's mouth a
bit, but Stan seems to be gaining interest after the lull so Kyle grabs Stan's
wrist while his mouth is still on his dick and pulls Stan up so he can kiss
him. Stan smells vaguely like Kyle's own sex, and he loves him for it. Kyle
reaches for Stan's dick, feeling him hard in his hand and wet on Kyle's
fingers. Stan presses his hips into Kyle's hand.
“Hands and knees again. Keep yourself up this time.” Kyle says into Stan's
mouth. Stan groans impatiently but nods, opening his eyes while their mouths
are still connected and all Kyle sees is blue.
When Stan's backside is facing him again, Kyle replaces the used rag with a
clean one, touching it to the small of Stan's back as a warning. Stan jumps at
the coolness but remains where he's positioned himself.
Kyle spreads Stan open, clinically dragging the rag over his hole that is
leaking semen and lube. It occurs to Kyle that he's literally wiping Stan's ass
for him, but shakes the thought away before he can laugh and ducks down to take
Stan's balls in his mouth.
Kyle feels the shock jolt through Stan and his explosive moan of sheer
surprise. Kyle can't help the self-satisfied smirk that comes from being the
cause of someone losing their composure, of the subtle arches of their back and
heavy intake of breath. Stan's cock sags with its heaviness, and Kyle reaches
to press it into his belly, moving his mouth to press with his tongue at the
space between Stan's asshole and balls. Stan gives a full body twitch when Kyle
finally grabs his cock for real, pumping him in time with the press and suck of
his mouth. Stan tilts his head back, eyes glazed before he hunches almost
defensively and mutters a desperate, “Shit.”
Kyle feels Stan's cock pulse in his hand, and hot semen spilling over his
fingers. Stan goes soft almost immediately, and Kyle pinches the head slightly
to get a sensitized “Ah-hah” from Stan before releasing him.
When Kyle pulls away, Stan stays on his hands and knees, still staking
slightly, still following Kyle's orders. Kyle feels a surge of affection and
scrambles to maneuver them under the blankets and pull Stan against his chest,
who seems exhausted. The comforter is a mess of cum and lube, and neither of
them care when they fall asleep.
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