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South Park

Alcohol is Bad!

(Kyle's POV)

Part 4

"Would you ever consider taking back what you have done?"

Well. . . there have been a lot of thing I would take back. All the times I tried to hurt my little brother, or all those times I allowed myself to be conned by Cartman. If you are talking about my choices in friends though, I would have to say there isn't a thing anyone could offer me to take back anything that I have experienced with him. Nope, not a thing. He's my best friend and I hope that never changes.

Stan's Big Birthday Slash. . I mean Bash

"God damnit!" I yelled out. A quick glare over my shoulder proved that Cartman was with that sick bastard Kenny, and they looked very much like they had no intentions of following us. I looked back at Stan, who had a goofy grin plastered on his face. He was swaying a bit and I seriously doubted he had even the slightest clue of what had just happened. Either that or he really didn't care. I frowned and quickened my pace, leaving the strip club far behind us before striking up any sort of conversation.

"So, how 'bout them Broncos," Stan said rather cheerfully.

"Huh?" I asked, "They've been on a losing streak."

Stan frowned and looked at me out of the corner of his eye, and then he tripped over his own two feet. He crashed into me and sent the both of us to the ground. He moved to get off, but rather than actually get off and brush the whole thing aside, he pinned me to the cold ground. I heard him purr my name and I struggled a little. "Stan, come on dude, let me up," I said. Too bad he's bigger than me.

He smiled down at me, then finally moved and helped me up. That was about when I realized how turned on I was. I blushed, and thanked God that he was too drunk to really notice though. We continued walking in silence until we reached his house. "Whoa dude, I can't go in there. I think I'm still a little loopy."

"Just a little Stan? I think you're down right drunk." I said with a snicker.

"Come wait with me in the club house 'til I sober up some," he answered as he was shuffling off to the old tree in the back of his house. I followed, shaking my head slightly. The clubhouse was amazingly still standing. For the most part we only ever went up there if we wanted to talk in private, away from nosey ears that belonged to parents, sisters, or manipulative sons of bitches named Cartman. Stan climbed up the ladder first, then I followed. I was amazed the thing didn't break under our weight. Stan was already seated in his spot, staring back at me in a daze. "Yeah, you're pretty drunk dude. You're turning into your dad," I said with a laugh. He only flipped me off.

"Hey Stan," I said after a few moments, "Do you even have the faintest idea why Kenny was doing what he was tonight?"

"What was Kenny doing?" Stan asked back.

"He was!" I started, "he was giving you a fucking lap-dance. God! If I hadn't have stepped in you two would have probably been butt buddies by the end of the night!" I sputtered out, then winced inwardly at the tone in which my words came out.

"Hey Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"Truth or dare?"

"What?"

"Truth or dare?" Stan repeated

"Uh, I don't know. Dare?" I asked uncertainly. I gasped out when Stan suddenly leaned forward, grasped my head in his left hand and pulling me into a rather tentative but sensual kiss. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before he let go and sat back, his deep blue eyes locked on me. I stared back in disbelief. Of all the wrong, gay things that I have ever seen or heard of, this was the first I had experienced first hand. Naturally I would think if something like this had happened to me, I would be offended, appalled. I would probably want to strangle whoever did it, but no, all I could think about was how good it felt, and how turned on I was getting.

I blushed, and Stan must have noticed it, because he edged just a bit closer, a worried look in his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered, "don't be mad. It was an accident." I blinked. He was so close to me again. "It. . it's ok Stan," I said softly, "It was nothing. ."

"Yeah, nothing," he said, his voice breathy. Then he reached out and kissed me again with more passion and less hesitation. I found myself kissing back.

After a moment, I found myself in the midst of a rather intense make-out session with my best friend. He had laid me out on the wooden planks of the floor, his body half covering mine as our lips met, and tongues dueled. He slid his hand down my torso, and the up into my shirt, his fingertips brushing my chest and flicking at my nipples. I gasped softly, raking my hands along his back, and sliding them down the front of his jeans. He moaned as I brushed against his hidden erection, and pressed against my exploring hand, begging for more. He hissed with pleasure when I began massaging him, and unzipping his pants. As soon as I was in, I ran my fingertip along his hardened shaft, eliciting moans and soft whines from him. He pressed against my hand as I took hold of him more firmly and began stroking him slowly. His kisses became more urgent, and he was practically panting on my lips.

Suddenly there was a loud crash as a few boards came loose from the ceiling and fell around us. "Aw shit," I yelled out, pulled out of my haze of pleasure by a wood plank that fell very close to my head. I released Stan and tried to shimmy away from him.

"Don't stop," he whined, then winced as he was pulled out of his out of his lustful state abruptly by some wood falling on his head. "God damnit!" he yelled out and pulled himself to his feet. "Let's get out of here," he said and scrambled for the exit. I got to my feet too and followed. Stan was almost to the ground when the structure fell out of the tree around us, covering us with debris and forcing us both to jump to the ground below.

"Woah," Stan said in disbelief. I heard the soft sound of a zipper, and glanced at Stan out of the corner of my eye as he was straightening his jeans over a rather sizable lump in front. I looked away back towards his house. "Well, I guess we better go inside," Stan said and turned back to the house, "You coming?"

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No one in Stan's house seemed to have been woken up by the sounds of the tree house crashing to the ground, for which we were both grateful. We picked our way silently to Stan's room in the dark and slipped inside. He closed the door with a sigh and I flopped down on the bed.

After a second of listening intently at the door, Stan came over and joined me. He looked down at me and in the faint light I could tell he was smiling. "We can mourn the old tree house tomorrow. I'm surprised it was still standing after all it's been through."

"I think it was because we finally added the nails a few years ago," I pointed out, and we both laughed.

Stan started to speak, but I hushed him with my finger, then pulled him down over me and replaced it with my lips. He paused for a second, then started kissing back. I felt his hand on my inner thigh and I gasped as his drifted upwards until he was pressing his hand against me. I let out a loud moan, which was only stifled by his kisses as he unzipped my pants and started playing with me.

After a few moments, I had lost most of my clothing and Stan was completely naked, except for his poof ball hat. Our hands were drifting and roaming across regions we never would have openly thought about even seeing, much less groping and jacking. Nearly an hour and a half passed, and both of us had played each other to exhaustion. Stan was lying on his back, his arms behind his head and was staring at the ceiling, and I was curled up at his side, my left arm across his waist. I felt so tired, but somehow complete, as if this was something I had been waiting for, for a long, long time.

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Part 5 will be up soon! Let me know what you think!