A.N- I don't know why, but I thought it would be hilarious. Ridiculously stupid YA.O.I, just to brighten up my mood. Hope you enjoy~

It was amazing, really, in that disgusting and distasteful way. The second he set foot into the house, the stench of alcohol was released into the air and entered the boy's nostrils as he tried to ignore the racket of the drunk coming home and focus on the TV that kept him company for the past few hours.

'I'm hoooomeeeee!'

The boy growled and turned the volume up, trying his best to keep calm and ignore the stupid voice of his stupid lover.

'Kyle?'

It was working. Now he was in his I-can't-hear-or-see-anything mode, any stimulus entering him just flowed right out without any processing. Well, at least he acted like it was.

'Ky-elllll- I'm hungry,'

The voice that was drowned in the drug induced state sounded like a lost puppy drowning in a flood and begging for help with its fading voice, but still Kyle did not respond. That made the sweet angel shoot right out of the drunk's ass.

'Kyle, cook something for me you piece of shit!'

The remote controller collided into the wall and shuttered to the floor making Kyle jump in his seat, looking at the broken device on the floor that was in his hand only a second ago. He felt the simmering eyes of his lover staring down on him as he tried to force himself calm.

'Stan, you just came back from the bar…' Kyle began slowly, 'I'm not your fucking wife. If you want more than a packet of defrosted peas then I advise you to make your own fucking dinner. Jerk.'

And with that, Kyle stood up and turned the TV off, since the remote's gruesome corpse was lying on the other side of the room, and sat back down on the couch with a book in hand. He heard Stan moan and even sob above him but he didn't care. It was all the alcohol in him anyway.

'Why are you so mean to me?' Stan murmured, not moving from his spot in front of a comfortable Kyle and his appetite instantly disappearing. No, to tell the truth he wasn't hungry from the start. He just wanted Kyle's attention; that was all. After hours of drinking and complaining to his friend at the bar, all he wanted was his love's attention. But still, even as he sobbed miserably above his lover, Kyle wouldn't bat an eye to give him what he wanted.

The frustration finally reached Stan's max and the drunk kicked the leg of the couch aggressively, causing Kyle's heart to pound, but nothing that would show to satisfy Stan.

'Why are you being such a fucking BITCH!'

He screamed, twirling his body around frantically for some sort of answer, until finally, his eyes landed on a small cabinet as he said that last word. With a sudden idea hitting him right on his forehead, Stan's lips curled up into an evil smile.

When Stan was a small boy, he had a dog named Sparky. He was a good dog, a good friend, listened to his orders, kept good company and understood his feelings, much unlike that bastard that was sitting on the couch right now, except for that one flaw.

Sparky was a homosexual dog, hardcore gay in every single way. They say that pets turn out like their owners but in this case- well, in this case that was exactly what happened. At first, Stan was shocked and disgusted of the sexual orientation of his own pet, but once he got to accept it, he went to the pet shop and bought a little present for Sparky in apology.

'Stan, what the heck is this?' His mother growled once she saw what her son had bought.

'It's for Sparky.' The little boy answered innocently. But the answer only made his mother even more shocked, making her gape at her son, then to the present in her hand, and then back to her son again.

'This is spiky, not Sparky.' She had hissed. What Stan's mother held in her hand was a brand new collar and leash for his dog, only, the collar was not the average, nice-homely-dog type of collar, but more like the type of collar a hardcore punk rocker would wear around his neck, with spikes at least an inch long pocking fiercely out of black leather.

His mother had never let him put it on his dog, but it was the first present he bought his pet with his own pocket money so Stan had kept it through all these years. He never thought that it would come in handy, but he guessed that he was wrong.

With a piercing smile pulling his lips, Stan carefully crept towards Kyle, who was much too focused on his book for his liking, even if it made this much easier.

'What the fuck?' Kyle muttered as he felt something cold secure his neck. His hands slowly hovered up to the coldness until he felt leather, and spikes, and the warmth fled away from his face.

'It suits you Kyle!' Stan hiccoughed pleasantly at Kyle's shocked reaction. 'The dog leash matches your bitchy attitude.'

'Stan…' Kyle growled frustratingly, his fingers clawing at the buckle of the collar trying to flick it off, but with no luck. 'Stan, get it off, now. I'm not in the fucking mood!' But his words died under his yelp as Stan tugged on the leash, making Kyle tumbled off the couch and onto the floor, right at Stan's feet.

'Let's see how much of a dog you really are Kyle.' The smile grew on Stan's face from something evil, to something with much more pleasure, and it only made Kyle from frustrated, to angry, glaring up at Stan from the floor that he was forced onto. He leaned up onto his feet, wanting to gain some height, but was instantly crashed back into the floor by Stan's foot.

'Ah, ah, ah- Dogs can't stand on two feet.' He mocked with false disappointment. 'What kind of dogs wear clothes anyway?'

Stan quickly turned Kyle onto his back and began undoing the buttons of his shirt, the gesture making Kyle's face flash from anger, to embarrassment.

'Stan, what are you doing?'

'Dog's don't talk either, you know?'

Quickly enough, definitely too quickly for Kyle's embarrassment and too quickly for Stan's enjoyment, Kyle was stripped naked in the middle of the living room with nothing but a spiky collar around his neck and a chain leash that led to Stan's hand.

'That's better.' Stan mused, watching Kyle curl his naked form up, trying to hide his shame. 'Now who wants a good tummy-rub?'

Kyle gaped at him with disbelief. 'What the fuck are you saying-'

But Stan wasn't listening. His fingers rushed to Kyle's slender waist and chest and crawled around like tentacles, making Kyle jitter and jolt like every movement was an electric shock. But still Kyle did his best to keep his body nice and curled up, hidden. That was, until fingers pinched the perks on his chest, making his body freeze in the sudden shock of pain.

Instantly, Kyle's body turned from a curled up ball to a released plank, torso rising into the air as his limbs stayed flat against the floor. Now every single inch of Kyle's perfect white skin was exposed and Stan hummed as he saw something between Kyle's legs growing harder. His little pet was enjoying this a little more than he was showing, although it was no match to Stan's erection tightening his jeans uncomfortably.

'Red rocket?' The grin on Stan's mouth said, the word making Kyle's eyes shoot open. He knew that word from over a decade ago. But before Kyle could respond it was too late. Stan's hand was already around Kyle's semi-erect cock, excited to make the member much more active.

'Red rocket.' He repeated, and began pumping. At first, Kyle's body wormed around in protest to the moving hand, but quickly, the pleasure overcame and his protests were replaced by long moans of content and dissatisfaction. But Stan knew that Kyle was enjoying this much more than he was showing. He had done that countless times before and knew exactly what made Kyle's pleasure hit maximum, but he didn't want to stop there.

Just before Kyle could release into his already sticky palm, Stan let go of the hard member with a teasing glint in his eye. The action, or lack of, felt to Kyle as if he was about to explode, and his mind blanked out for that short instance.

'Woof!'

That one word made Stan's eyes widen in disbelief and Kyle's face burn in shocking embarrassment. He couldn't believe it. He just barked like a dog in begging for Stan to continue. God, could anything be any worse? But what was to Kyle the most damning cry was nothing but a shock to peek Stan's amusement.

'That's a good doggy,' Stan soothed, rubbing Kyle's neck with his cum-smooched hand as if he was a real dog, smiling when Kyle closed his eyes in comfort. 'Now let's see how loyal that good doggy is.'

Stan got to his knees, pulling the leash up with him, making Kyle yelp in the process. 'Now show me how happy you can make your owner.' He grabbed Kyle's head and placed his face in front of his crotch, showing him the tightness of his jeans as if he couldn't be any clearer.

Gulping once, from excitement or from nervousness it didn't matter, Kyle slowly drew his hands up towards the front of Stan's jeans, until a tick of a tongue stopped his motions.

'Dog's can't use hands, remember?'

Twitching his eyebrow in irritation, Kyle quickly undid the button and took the zipper into his teeth, and slowly began to pull down, the sound of the zipper taking its time surging Stan's excitement. Once that was done, the rest was a much more simple process. With barely a flick of the boxers and Stan's rock-hard cock came flying out into Kyle face, making the boy cringe at the unexpected contact. He heard Stan laugh above him at the scene, and tried to ignore as much humiliation as possible, and shoved the member straight into his mouth.

It wasn't his first time giving oral, not for a long shot, but doing it without hands was not a big experience of his. He bobbed his head in and out, sliding his tongue around and tasting the cum, listening to his owner moan above him and shove himself deeper into Kyle's throat.

'Fuck- fucking more Kyle-!'

You say it so fucking easy, you motherfuck- Kyle thought as he dug the member deeper and deeper, secretly enjoying that melting moment of tasting Stan's cock throughout his mouth and throat. And soon, as the bobbing and shoving gathered speed and strength, the warm taste shot into Kyle's mouth and straight down his throat, causing him to nearly choke on Stan's cum and member.

'Attaboy.' Stan panted with a smile, tilting Kyle's head up so that he swallowed every single drop of him. 'Now we can have a little walk.'

The chains of Kyle's leash cluttered as he was pulled again, but Kyle didn't even bother to try and stand up on his two feet. He accepted that playing some dog-owner relationship thing was Stan's kink of the day and trying to avoid it would be much more bothersome than to go on and do it. But that didn't make crawling on the floor of his house bare-naked with only a collar and a leash any easier.

'Oh, yeah. Got it.' Stan clicked his tongue excitedly with a grin and looked down at Kyle. 'You know what this means, don't you? You clever dog. And you know you like it.' He dangled the packet of a condom and the bottle of lube in front of Kyle with a smirk at his wrinkling nose.

'So where do you want to do it? In the bedroom, the living room, the bathroom or kitchen?' But before Kyle could answer the most decent answer, Stan's chuckled filled the room. 'Oh yeah, I forgot! You can't answer because you're a dog! Well, let's just do it here.'

Kyle sighed a small breath of a relief. Thank god they were already in the bedroom.

'Wait- aren't we going on the bed?' Kyle voice pitched as Stan began to kneel on the floor.

'Don't be stupid Kyle, dog's aren't allowed on the bed.'

Kyle's heart jumped at the words as a sarcastic smile spread across his lips. This role-playing or whatever it was, was beginning to piss Kyle off. But as he heard Stan pull his jeans down to his knees behind him, all that sarcasm flowed out of him along with his smile. Stan was never good at starting off butt-sex when he was drunk. His self-control was shocking.

The sound of soft flapping coming from behind slowly made Kyle's erection come back, making him realise that he was never released the first time. God, and to think that he gave him such an oral afterwards…

'Ahh-hha!' Kyle's disregarded voice shook as two fingers suddenly entered him without any warning.

'Oh, sorry, didn't I warn you?' But merely a second after that apology did another finger twisted its way through.

'Just tell me when you- ngh' Kyle's words were cut short again when Stan's member entered him and replaced his fingers, without any warning.

Fuck! I'm never having fucking sex with him when he's fucking drunk ever again! Kyle promised himself as Stan thrust himself in and out mindlessly. His hands and knees burned, as he was rocked backwards and forwards by his owner's hands securing his hips. But from the sounds he could hear behind him, Kyle knew that Stan was enjoying this much more than he was. Fuck, his disregarded cock was hard as hell and he couldn't even do anything or he'll collapse to the ground.

But just as Kyle began swearing his mind off and cursing his owner in his head, a hand curled around his so-thought forgotten cock and started pumping, just as he thought Stan couldn't concentrate on anything but thrusting deeper into him. Oh God… The strength in Kyle's arms and legs began to evaporate into thin air and it felt like his limbs were turning into jelly, until another tug on the leash made him stay up in the air.

A soft cry rang through the room and Stan's lips curled up into a satisfied and sly smile. He loved that melting cry of pleasure Kyle made, especially when it was caused by his skills. God, even when he was smashed, he knew exactly how to hit Kyle's prostate.

But just as thing's began to climax a loud ring shook the air of their apartment, making the two freeze on their spot.

'Hey Kyle! Stan? You home?' A bright voice called, knocking rudely on their door. Stan growled angrily, wondering whether he should just ignore his friend's voice and continue. But the banging of the door grew louder and Kyle was unresponsive to him, now that his mind was on the person at the door.

'Stan, it's Kenny. We should answer it…' Kyle murmured nervously. He knew how sensitive Stan became towards intruders of their sex, especially when it was fucking Kenny. The thought that he was once listening to Kyle's moans like he was burned Stan's mind.

'You answer it then…' Stan whispered dangerously. But that one whisper caused a dramatic shock in Kyle's head.

'What! Dude, I'm fucking naked! You're the one with more clothes on!'

'Yeah, and as your owner, I'm ordering you to answer the fucking door. Now.' He gave another tug on the leash. A thin sneer appeared on Stan's lips at the thought of showing Kenny what they were doing. But he knew Kyle wouldn't let anyone watch them fuck, so letting Kenny use his imagination was enough.

With a long, miserable groan, Kyle got to his feet and pondered his way uncomfortably to the door with an erection and cum smearing on his dick. Stan watched with a satisfied grin on his lips as he walked away.

Making sure that his body was hiding behind the door, Kyle unlocked and turned the doorknob, slowly creaking open the entrance.

'Hey Kenny.' He muttered, barely showing half his face to the blond standing at the door.

'Kyle! What took you so fucking long? Stan forgot his jacket at the bar and I thought-' Kenny, with his insensibility, leaned the door open, although slightly, but enough for the image shown to him to cut his words off. 'Is that a collar?'

Kyle's body turned to ice, not being able to say anything as Kenny cast his eyes down.

'Oh-ho! I see you and Stan have been having some fun time! Mind if I join you?' He leaned a little deeper so that his lips were touching the tip of Kyle's ear. 'Or we can kick out that miserable drunk and have fun alone together? Like the old days.'

'Fuck off Kenny.' A much lower, more dangerous voice called, making Kyle shudder at Stan suddenly standing behind him. 'He's my fucking bitch and you know it.' He tugged on the leash, dangling the chains that led form Kyle's neck to his hand.

Kenny flung his hands up into the air defensively with a wide grin on his face. 'I just came here to give you your jacket dude, chill!' He threw the jacket at Stan and stepped back, turning to leave. 'Send me a picture when you're done!' He called before the door shut on him.

'I'm not your fucking bitch.' Kyle murmured when the apartment finally quietened, free of Kenny's voice. 'I'm not your fucking bitch. I'm not a dog and you're not my fucking owner.'

A frown dropped onto Stan's face, disappointed in Kyle's sudden coldness that was directed at him.

'But you are Kyle.' The simple answer made Kyle's face fling up in shock. 'You are my fucking bitch. You are mine and I'm not letting you go.'

'Dude, just because you're fucking drunk doesn't mean you can say whatever you…' But as Kyle stared up into those piercing clear blue orbs he felt his heart sink. 'You're sober?'

A wide grin reappeared on Stan's face, twitching his eyes into a thin smile.

'Now I am. Doesn't mean that I still can't fuck your brains out though.'

The leash tugged harshly, making Kyle stick to the door behind him.

'Sick of pretending that I'm a dog?' Kyle smirked as Stan lifted his legs up, bending so that he was in the air with only Stan's hands keeping him secure.

'I just realised that I don't have to pretend.'

This time when Stan entered, he didn't stop his thrusting at anything. Listening to Kyle's sweetly aggressive moans and cries as he hit his prostate, massaging it with his cock, he grinned and drove himself deeper and deeper into his redhead. Even as Kyle swore his head off when they fucked it didn't matter, because Stan knew that that was only to hide the embarrassment of moaning his head off in pleasure. He knew that Kyle loved this as much as he did.

Once the thrusting and the crying of pleasure stopped, nothing seemed to be left but the heavy panting that surrounded their flashed faces.

'Dude…' Kyle tried to manage through his panting, 'I think that condom was broken…' But that statement only made Stan lips curl up into a grin.

'No, I took it off.'

'What! When?'

'When you went to answer the door for Kenny.'

Kyle gaped at Stan grinning up at him.

'I wanted you to feel me, deep inside you.'

Oh God, why did Kyle's face flash so much at Stan's soft voice? Damn those warm loving eyes that gazed into him after such mind-blowing fucking.

Kyle wrapped his arms around Stan's shoulders and sealed their lips together in a warm, deep kiss.

'We still hadn't kissed you jerk.' His face burned deep red with self-conscious embarrassment as he said those words that showed his honest feelings. But when they made Stan's grin turn bright and warm, he thought it was worth it.

'I love you Kyle,' Stan cooed as he nuzzled himself into Kyle chest.

'Yeah, I know, I know.' Kyle rolled his eyes. 'Now let me down, it's cold up here.'

'Only if you promise to keep the collar and leash on.' Stan grinned into Kyle's green eyes, making the redhead sigh.

'I can keep the collar on. But let's leave the leash for another time. Okay?'

Kyle gave the best answer Stan could hope for and caressed his neck lovingly, making Stan smile happily.

'Woof!'

A.N- Thank you for reading~