Dirty Dancing

Pairing: Style… it wasn't going to be Style… but then I had to add something, and well… things evolved.

A/N: Really, the song has no meaning in the story it's not suppose to "represent their relationship" or anything. I just really like the song, and think it's incredibly fun to dance to.

The boys are around 16 in this fic.

Song: SOS (Rescue Me) –Rihanna

Disclaimer: The boys belong to Matt and Trey… but sometimes I borrow them for my own twisted purposes.

It was another one of those days, where boredom creeps onto unsuspecting victims and terrorizes them. Kyle and Stan were desperately searching for something to save them from the clutches of monotony, when the latter stumbled upon the red head's radio. Grinning he flipped the power switch and content with the current indie song laid back on his friends bed and chilled to the music, his foot tapping along.

Kyle, while he enjoyed the music, wasn't occupied by it. He continued to root through the lost depths of his room. It wasn't the first time the boy was disappointed by the lack of a TV and video games in there. Sure he could always go down stairs and play them, but at the moment with his mother's feminist group there, it wasn't much of an option. The last thing he really wanted was a lecture about was sexual harassment in the work place and double standards. It was the weekend for the love of god.

Stan noticed the irritation building in his friend. He'd have to do something about that, after all they were supposed to be having fun.

"Dude, chill out."

"But there's nothing to do!" Kyle whined in an exasperated tone.

An idea clicked into Stan's mind when he heard the song change. It's was upbeat, poppy and loaded with rhythm.

S O S Please some one help me, It's not healthy for me to feel this, Y O U are making this hard.

He stood up from his comfy spot on the bed and started bobbing his head to the music. Stan went unnoticed as Kyle crouched down looking for some old board games at the bottom of his closet. The Marsh boy picked up snapping his fingers as he got into the song. By the time Stan had made his way over to redhead he was bouncing his shoulders to the beat. Kyle turned around only to put an incredulous look on his face after feeling a tap on his arm. There was Stan in all his glory dancing.

"You're such a dork." Kyle commented, thoroughly amused. At this Stan pulled the boy to his feet and started rocking Kyle's arms back and forth to the tempo. "I'm not dancing to Rihanna." The Jew always had a habit of being stubborn.

"Oh come one, loosen up." The black haired boy moved back to the middle of the room where he had more space to let his limbs flail around. Kyle continued to watch as he debated in his head weather to give in to the beat and catchy lyrics or maintain his masculinity. In the end he was just thankful of the privacy of his room.

I'm lost, you got me looking for the rest of me, got the best of me, so now I'm losing it.

He walked over to Stan a bounce in his step and swinging his hips clapping his hand against his side. Elated at being joined Stan's face cracked into a huge smile. His movements became wilder than before; he rolled his stomach back and forth.

"Is that how you dance?" Kyle quipped knowing that his own dancing truly wasn't any better.

"Can you do better?" Damn, Stan caught that one.

Kyle just smirked, prepared to take the challenge. He drew closer to Stan still rocking his hips, until he was touching the boy's side. Wrapping his hands around his best friends neck he grinded him. Yes, that's right, grinded him, shamelessly, unabashedly grating his hipbones against Stan. This took Stan by surprise, his movements ceased, but Kyle continued. Saying he was shocked was an understatement. But the music continued and Kyle's movements drew him into a surreal comfort and he soon found him self rocking back in sync with the other boy.

This behavior persisted, both boys content to continue the slightly sexual display within the confines of the room. But as they sensed the song draw to an end they pulled away. The radio faded.

"Fags."

Their heads whipped to Kyle's door way where Cartman and Kenny stood watching them. Crap.

Kenny made some muffled noises through his hood before turning to leave. Kyle and Stan glanced at each other nervously before facing Cartman who explained, "I don't want to be around you fags when you start making out. I should have known this is what would happen in a dirty Jew's home."

Kyle's response was almost automatic. "Shut up, Fatass."

"Screw you guys, I'm going home."

After the door shut Stan remained silent. Kyle broke the tense atmosphere first. "You know, we'll never be able to go back to school."

Remembering the way Kyle had felt against him, the only thing Stan could think to say was, "You were right. I like your way of dancing better."

The redheads smirk returned as he shut and locked his door from further interruptions.