A/n: This is an extremely rough story written in one day. It doesn't really have a point, so.
Stan started consciously masturbating at ten and got his first hand job at eleven. Eleven was when Kyle started consciously masturbating and, after a couple weeks, asked Stan if he did it too. They'd watched porn together for a while and then they'd talked about how things looked like they felt really good. Really it was just each boy's way of trying to ask the other for a hand job.
It happened a week before Stan turned twelve. "It's an early birthday present," Kyle had explained, reaching into Stan's pants. It had been entirely sexual and after Kyle had close to demanded Stan return the favor. Stan didn't worry about being gay because Kyle was his best friend. It was basically a step above masturbation in the morality sense. Kyle didn't think it was gay because it was a hand, just a hand, everybody had hands. And reciprocating was just being polite, not gay.
By 13, Kyle had a girlfriend that would give him hand jobs and he was a lot more reluctant to do anything with Stan. He considered it cheating because a hand is a hand, whether you "like like" the person attached to it or not. Stan didn't view it as cheating because masturbation wasn't cheating, was it? But he wasn't going to push for it and sound lame. He did hate Kyle's girlfriend and when they broke up and Kyle spent the night, he celebrated on the inside.
Whenever Stan had a girlfriend, he didn't stop Kyle from touching him. He lost his virginity at 15 and spent the next night with Kyle. Although, of course, it wasn't always at night. On the weekends, it was just as likely to happen during day time. The older they got, the more they utilized public places.
They also got more competitive. Who could do the best job, who could hold out the longest. There was never a clear winner in either category but Kyle did get the prize for having the most semen. Sometimes, usually while intoxicated, Stan liked to talk about the magic of Kyle's testicles. Only to Kyle, although once he'd said something to Ike. Ike had rolled his eyes and said, "I knew it." Stan didn't get it.
Kyle lost his virginity at 17 and Stan didn't let him live it down, taking so long. They hadn't jacked each other off six months by the time this happened as Kyle had some thing with monogamy and commitment accompanying sex. Not that Stan didn't. He'd dated the girl who'd taken his virginity for four months and they'd stayed together for an additional three. He just didn't talk about it the way Kyle sometimes did.
Sometimes, like the time they'd shared half a bottle of vodka sitting in some neighborhood kid's tree house and he'd babbled about how much he loved his current girlfriend. Then he leaned over the edge and threw up on the family dog. Running away hadn't worked with how drunk they both were. They'd gotten jailed overnight for that.
Other things happened when they were drunk, some horribly unimportant and some very much so. Like when, on the night of graduation, Kyle and Stan snuck away from their friends to just have a couple minutes together. That was when Kyle grabbed Stan by the neck and kissed him. It was a really wet kiss, Kyle slobbering all over Stan's chin, or maybe Stan drooled over himself. He was too inebriated to tell. He could tell he was kissing back, that he'd jammed a hand down the back of Kyle's pants. He'd never touched his ass before, just like they'd never kissed before.
The next morning, they didn't talk about it. It was for the same reason, although since they didn't talk they didn't know. Neither boy saw it as a big deal. Neither boy had anything they wanted to talk about. They hadn't kissed when they were younger because it just didn't seem all that exciting.
But now they both knew how to do it, and supposedly well no matter what the excess saliva said. So it was just another fun thing. The only difference was that neither of them were single. Kyle had always, always stopped before when he had a girlfriend. But Stan didn't care, never had, and Kyle had stopped caring too. So they kissed, a lot, drunkenly and sober, almost always as a prelude to something else.
And, they were annoyed to discover, it made the hand jobs a letter better. Annoyed because they could've been doing it for years.
They went to college, went off to college at the state university farthest away from South Park. College was huge and thrilling and just a tiny bit scary, maybe, to Kyle when he was alone and to Stan when he realized he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life and still he was (his parents were) forking over thousands of dollars. He never told them about his worries. Kyle sometimes called home and talked to Ike about missing home, because Ike would cuss him out and hang up. It made him angry; it made him better.
Stan and Kyle didn't room together. They were alright with that. They had other friends from high school and new friends to make. Stan started partying heavily and Kyle got a little more studious than he'd ever been. So there were good things.
"Plus," Stan said when they found out their rooming assignments, "if we did room together, we'd have to wash our sheets six times a day." It was more like twice a week but Kyle didn't correct him.
Besides, the thrill of public places hadn't worn off.
When Stan's roommate started spending nights away with some chick, Kyle got to spend the night in their dorm. They'd always start off with Kyle on the floor and Stan offering to switch places. Then Kyle would get into bed with Stan. His roommate's bed was out of question because, dude, he has sex in there. Kyle didn't really care but it was kind of funny to see how long Stan would hold out before asking him to get in bed with him.
Stan wasn't going home for the winter break, citing a ski trip with some friends. Two of the three girls he'd fucked. Kyle was going home, was excited about it. The fact Stan wasn't going really didn't excite him any less. In fact, it was kind of a good thing because Stan, as an early Christmas present or something, blew Kyle. It was the first time and even after 7 years of jerking each other off, Kyle still felt mildly surprised and embarrassed.
He'd liked it though, of course. "I'm just not ready," he'd said, even though Stan didn't ask for anything back. "When I come back, though. The first time your roommate leaves. Or mine."
He did, too, and he thought he did pretty decent for his first one. It didn't even matter that after Stan had grinned and said, "You spent all break googling the shit out of how to do that, didn't you?"
Summer they spent half in South Park and half out, although if Stan didn't want to hang out with Kyle he'd probably spend the entire time gone. Not that he didn't love his parents anymore. He just didn't need to see them when he had 18 years of experiences to feed off. Kyle didn't work that way though. Stan didn't totally mind.
They had a major falling out over it though, because he did. Kyle wouldn't go on a white water rafting trip Stan really, really, really wanted to go on. He wouldn't even consider it. Because it was the weekend of Ike's birthday. Stan had basically promised to spend the weekend with Kyle, but that was under his assumption of the trip. So Stan left and had a great time. He had the people drop him off in front of Kyle's house and he knocked on the door still in a damp bathing suit, the bottom of his shirt soaked through, hair unbrushed. Ike answered.
"He doesn't want to talk to you," Ike said. "I'm 13, by the way."
"Fuck off," Stan said. He didn't bother calling Kyle and Kyle didn't bother calling him. They went back to college and didn't talk much. They never coincidentally ran into each other so avoidance was easy. Stan stopped being mad pretty early on but it was easier to just keep living than to try and work things out. Kyle was mad the whole time, mad every second up until eight months had passed and he realized what a piece of dramatic shit he'd been.
He apologized first and Stan invited him to bowling that night. Stan, Kyle found out that night, was single. Kyle, Stan found out that night, had been dating someone the entire semester. And having gone so long without any sexual contact with Stan, he wasn't really interested in picking it back up. Not even because of the girl. Just because.
Stan knew it made sense because they weren't curious little kids anymore but he didn't care much about sense. He waited till Kyle was single again – summer, both of them 20 – and made out with Kyle in the Broflovski kitchen.
The next night, naked in Stan's bed, Kyle said, "I've been thinking. Why do we do this? Before it was experimentation, right? But we're way past the point of that. With girls, I mean, but us too. We've been having sex with each other longer before we ever had sex with girls."
"I don't have sex with you," Stan said, thinking immediately of anal and wanting to retch. He didn't get the guys who went crazy for it, didn't get why almost everyone seemed to want to try it. Kyle knew this, which was why he laughed. But he didn't bring it up for a while, not until they were back at school. He wasn't dating anyone but he was talking to someone, a blond freshman. Her name was Jill, which Stan only remembered because Kyle said her name about fifty thousand times while Stan sat in his closet and watched them fuck.
It was an accident on Stan's part and careful planning on Kyle's. He'd asked Jill to come over thirty minutes after he'd invited Stan over. The result, her knocking on the door when they were both naked, forcing Stan into the closet…it worked out pretty much perfectly.
Kyle didn't feel bad because Jill had said, many times, she was just in it for the sex. That was using him, kind of, and he justified that for using her too. Using her to show Stan what he was missing out.
When she left, Stan lurched out of the closet dressed in Kyle's clothes. He was red faced and hard but Kyle didn't poke fun at him because it didn't seem right.
"That was fucking weird," he said and didn't talk to Kyle for two weeks. Two weeks later, Kyle and Stan had sex. Kyle toped and he felt like that was important. It was better than with Jill, a lot, and he wasn't really sure why and honestly didn't care. Stan still felt kind of weird because, well, it seemed gay. A stupid thought to have, surely. He didn't care so much anymore. Kyle had been identifying as bisexual since they'd gotten to college, so.
The thing was, sex with another guy seemed to take a lot more energy than sex with a girl, and suddenly neither boy tried to get in the pants of anyone else. And Kyle's studious nature was rubbing off on Stan, who had cut down his drinking to probably once a week. It was partly due to the fact that they both had majors, they knew what they wanted to do, they were at college for a purpose. Partly it was being almost 21, almost entirely accustomed to living without parents or rules other than laws. Part of it was probably the emotions they'd always said they didn't have.
"I don't fucking like Stan," Kyle had yelled at Ike more than once in his life. And Cartman had earned more than one, "Fuck offs" from Stan every time he tried the fag insult. Part of that was the knee jerk reaction. Part of it, he was pretty sure, holding Kyle's degree, was repression.
But. Well.
"Good job," Stan said, handing it back. "Dr. Broflovski."
"Not yet," Kyle said but he was smiling. "I still have to go to medical school and my residency, asstard." But "not yet" really just meant "someday." Stan was glad he didn't have graduate school to go to. A bachelor in business suited him just fine for his future sex shop business. He thought about franchising a Chick-Fil-A first so later he could tell people about his Christian adventures as he swiped their credit card for a vibrating butt plug. He did want to work in his own store for a while. Maybe.
But Kyle wanted to be a cardiac surgeon. He had the brains, definitely. He had the money. He had to go a couple states away to go to a better school than Colorado could offer. Stan was staying right where he was, still kind of figuring out what he wanted to do. He had an apartment and a roommate and a part time job leftover from college but that was it. So he felt just a little or maybe a lot like Kyle was waltzing out of his life.
Kyle didn't feel that way. There was email and cell phones and Skype and not having Stan in his life was just such an impossibility, he didn't see the point in worrying over it. So, unworried, he didn't keep to the weekly webcam chat schedule and within six months of leaving Colorado they barely talked more than a few half-hour phone chats once or twice a month. Stan worked on his business plan, looked for investors and schmoozed people for contacts. He spent a lot of time with people who had been born into money and he started drinking more, mostly wine and beer spread out over several hours. Kyle excelled in school.
He didn't come home the winter break, going to his girlfriend's family instead. Stan didn't go home either but he had no girlfriend, just a group of friends who wanted to go on vacation. But Stan honestly didn't have the money for that so he took on vacation hours and browsed the internet.
Kyle showed up halfway through February. His lips were blue and he didn't have on a hat or gloves. "I forgot how fucking cold it gets," he said, stepping inside, sliding his hands under Stan's jacket to warm them up. Stan reached around him to shut the door and then looked down at the lack of space between their bodies.
"Already?" Kyle kissed Stan, probably, cause if Stan did it he couldn't tell and he couldn't see why. But they kept kissing, kissed their way to Stan's bedroom where the door got locked and clothes peeled off. It was the first time in what felt like forever. Kyle already looked so much older than he had before, his face more angular and his face covered in itchy stubble.
"College isn't the same without you," Kyle said later, redressed and drinking coffee at the kitchen table. Stan's roommate was due back soon and he'd never met Kyle before and the potential introduction seemed like a bad idea.
"It's pretty much the same here," he said, dumping packets of creamer into his coffee, way too much. Because Kyle was staring at Stan. Staring at Stan, not drinking his coffee, and then he stood up and took Stan's coffee out of his hands.
"Do you know what today is? Why I drove all the way to this God-forsaken cold ass town?" He knew it was a Friday because he had work the next day. 8 AM to 2 PM.
"Oh," he said. "It's Valentine's Day. Why aren't you with, uh, Linda?"
"I like fucking you more than anyone else," Kyle said, not really an answer. "And we've been doing this so long. There has to be a reason we can't keep our hands off each other."
"Yeah, we're horny bastards," Stan said. He laughed. It was weak and Kyle just shook his head. He looked almost disappointed.
"I didn't come here for jokes," he said. "I wanted to say that I want to be exclusive. I know it won't be easy cause we'll have to meet halfway or some shit and it'll be hours of driving. But I'm not really worried about making it work. I know we can, if you want to."
Stan said no and Kyle went to leave. He'd opened the door before Stan went after him. They stood outside the door of Stan's apartment and kissed for the first time as a couple. That's what Kyle called them and what they were, Stan guessed, although sometimes it was hard to associate that word with Kyle.
Kyle stayed the weekend and then went back to school. The year went pretty much like Kyle had outlined. There was a lot of driving and the webcam chats actually stayed on schedule, mostly because jerking off in front of a camera was better than phone sex.
The next time they saw each other was June and Stan was a jumble of hormones because Kyle, in their typical competitive spirit, had decided to take a bet to see who could wait two weeks without jerking off. He thought it would also make sex better. Stan was convinced it would just ensure he came in about three seconds, which was close to what happened. It didn't really matter in practical terms since he bottomed but Kyle didn't let him forget about it the entire week.
Stan opened his sex shop and Kyle completed grad school and they were 26, dating long distance for three years. Stan thought sometimes that they were being extremely immature. He didn't know anyone who would waste their time on a person several states away. The desire to fuck something hit hard more frequently than he liked to admit and even though he and Kyle were monogamous, it was still a struggle every time to beat down (or, really, off) the urge.
It wasn't half as difficult for Kyle. He found himself extremely busy, either with school or work or friends. Every week he only became more interested in cardiac surgery and more confident in his Valentine trip to Colorado.
After Kyle got his doctorate and his lease ran out, he drove back to Stan. "I'm starting my residency soon," he said a week after moving in. "And I've been thinking. Do you want kids?" Stan, hunched over his laptop with about thirty different programs running, stopped typing.
"What?"
"It's important to discuss future goals before marriage. So, kids or not? What are your retirement plans?" That was how Kyle proposed to Stan. Stan didn't really want kids, maybe a dog, and he had never really thought about marrying Kyle - marrying anyone. He didn't see a reason not to. They'd manhandled each other's dicks for 15 years in probably 1500 hundred places and things were still good. Almost great. So he said, "Yeah, okay."