Southpark Kink Meme
The Official Southpark Kink Meme!
OFFICIAL COMPLAINT POST
Here's how it works.
Post an ANONYMOUSE request. You can request a single character, a pairing, a threesome, or more. IT doesn't matter.
MAKE SURE YOU PROVIDE A KINK!!!
This isn't a pairing meme. For a guide to kinkage, please refer to this postTry not to be too specific or the writer's ( Read more... )
OFFICIAL COMPLAINT POST
Here's how it works.
Post an ANONYMOUSE request. You can request a single character, a pairing, a threesome, or more. IT doesn't matter.
MAKE SURE YOU PROVIDE A KINK!!!
This isn't a pairing meme. For a guide to kinkage, please refer to this postTry not to be too specific or the writer's ( Read more... )
The bell rang out sharply, signalling the beginning of the next period and the tiled room suddenly rang out with mumbled groans and flushing toilets. By the time Stan had pushed his stall door open, the last person was filtering from the bathroom back into the halls.
He felt in no similar rush, strolling over to the lines of stained, once-white sinks. One basin was clogged with paper, another refused to give him any water. With an irritated grunt he turned the faucet of the third bowl and was rewarded with a sudden rush of cold water which helpfully showered his entire front.
“God damn it!” Stan cursed feebly, throwing his arm up in a futile attempt to protect himself from the splash-back. He managed to stop the jet of water, casting a worried look at his reflection in the cracked mirror hanging above the basins. He winced at the large, damp stain across his crotch, “Aw, come on!” A wet shirt and face he could have lived with, but that?
Slamming his hand against the hand-dryer, Stan tried to angle his lower body against the barely-warm jet of air. “Come on, come on,” he repeated in a near-silent mantra, willing the darkness which spread across his jeans to disappear.
A high pitched squeal signalled the bathroom’s door opening, and Stan shot a pre-empted glare to whoever was adding to his embarrassment.
Kyle returned the glare with a confused look as the door swung shut behind him. It took the Jew only a moment to fully assess the situation before a lop-sided smile started to spread across his face. “Dude… Did you-?”
“No!” Stan cut off his friend sharply. “It’s these faucets, they’re all screwed up,” he hurriedly explained, hoping that he wasn’t starting to blush.
Kyle shook his head in amusement, “And humping the hand-dryer is going to help matters?”
“I wasn’t humping it!” But he still took a few almost guilty steps back from the machine. “What else was I supposed to do? Go through the day with weak bladder jokes being thrown at me?”
“I think those jokes would last longer than a day; especially if Cartman got wind of it.” Kyle closed the distance between them, tugging at Stan’s damp shirt and clucking his tongue like a worried hen. Stan knew it was a habit Kyle unintentionally picked up from his mother, and he knew that he would be a fool to point it out.
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“Whu- hey! Dude!” Stan tried to protest, ending up with his arms and head locked inside his damp shirt. “What are you doing?” he hissed, trying to get a clear view of the redhead.
“Well, you’ll catch your death in those wet clothes.”
“Catch my-?” Stan was liberated from his shirt, the cold bathroom air hitting him instantly. The chill caught the muscles in his stomach off guard, and they twitched beneath his skin. “And stripping me off is going to prevent that?”
“Well, it’ll warm you up.” Kyle dropped the shirt unceremoniously across the back of the cistern.
“It will?”
“I love it when you’re dense.” Kyle’s fingers curled over Stan’s waistband, as he leant in to lick a drop of water from Stan’s nose.
The penny finally dropped. “Oh… wait, here? Now?”
“Here, now.”
“Don’t you have class?” Stan asked, feeling dumb-founded. Kyle wanted to skip out on lessons entirely? Was it the end of the world again?
“Don’t you?” the Jew countered. His lips traced across Stan’s jaw, before his tongue curled around the dark-haired boy’s ear, his breath hot and heavy after a mere moment of sucking at the earlobe. “You weren’t going to get to class anyway.”
“Un… good point,” Stan felt his knees buckle slightly as Kyle’s teeth came into play across the sensitive flesh in his mouth. This was just like Kyle, to try and make Stan a gibbering wreck before they’d even begun. Well, Stan wasn’t about to let Kyle take complete control of the situation.
He gripped Kyle hips, pulling the other boy closer. Their shoes squeaked across the tiles as Stan awkwardly and almost violently turned their positions, pinning Kyle against the stall’s door. They froze for a moment as the noise of body hitting wood echoed around the walls, giving half-nervous chuckles before they fell back against each other.
Their lips met in a battle of heated breath and slick, wet muscle. Stan’s hands roved over the redhead’s body, working their way under layers of clothes until the found flesh, tracing across a large scar in Kyle’s side tenderly. It was a lingering memory of one of those times he could have lost his best friend, of when he had been almost completely unable to help.
Kyle pulled Stan’s hand away from his side, as if reading his mind and silently ordering him to forget it. Pressing Stan’s palm against a knot in his trousers, Kyle released a soft groan. “Come on, Stan,” he urged breathlessly. “Do me.”
Stan really wasn’t in a position to disobey. His hand worked clumsily but eagerly at Kyle’s belt buckle and flies until dry skin could meet hot flesh. Kyle rolled his head back, a throaty noise rolling from his parted lips. It was all the encouragement that Stan needed.
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Both boys froze again, wide green eyes meeting wider brown ones in silent horror. They listened to the sounds coming from behind their stall’s door as intently as they might have listened to a radio. There was the sound of a zipper, and then some grunt of relief as the sound of liquid hitting porcelain started to echo around the room.
Kyle’s lips moved, silently mouthing the command ’Let. Go.’ That was when two thoughts crossed Stan’s mind. The first was that this was the school’s boy’s room, a public place. Oh sure, he had known that, but he hadn’t actively thought of the thrill of that, the danger. Not until now, when they were caught in the middle of it.
The second was the realisation that despite Kyle’s silent insistence that they stop, he was still rock hard beneath Stan’s hand.
A wicked smirk slowly took over Stan’s lips. Kyle caught sight of it easily, and looked momentarily worried, trying once again to mouth his words.
Stan’s hand clamped over Kyle’s mouth before he could finish, the dark-haired boy’s hand gripping tighter at the hard cock. Kyle’s body tried to jerk backwards in instinct, only succeeding in rattling the door against its hinges.
The noise of water hitting ceramic stopped. “Is… Is somebody in here?” called an odd voice, which almost sounded as if it hadn’t broken yet.
Stan’s grin grew wider, recognising the voice instantly. Butters - he couldn’t have hoped for better. Butters was hardly the sharpest tool in the box and that just more incentive for Stan to continue on this mad whim of his. “Yeah, I’m here,” He called back.
Kyle’s eyes glared at Stan, practically screaming without words. His hands clawed at Stan’s wrist, but he was unable to get the dark-haired boy to leave him be.
“Stan, that you?”
“Yeah,” Stan drawled back. He stroked Kyle’s erection firmer, faster. The friction was burning his hand in a not wholly unpleasant way, and from the way Kyle’s anger seemed to be changing to lust he had to imagine the Jewish boy was enjoying it too.
“Well! What are you doing in here? Are you sick?”
“No, I’m great,” Stan answered, praying Butters wouldn’t check under the stalls. “Just… ya know, stuff.”
The sound of the faucet began, Butters raising his voice to be heard above it. “Oh. Well, that’s okay then. Hey, did ya know that Kyle’s gone missing? He wasn’t in science a minute ago.”
“Oh really?” Stan tried to keep the amusement out of his voice, watching the apparently missing redhead squirming under his attentions. Kyle’s breath was wet against his hand, and he was clearly fighting to bite back his moans. “Maybe he’s playing hooky, Butters.”
“Really? Ya think so?” Butters muttered something that was lost under the rush of water. “It’s just the darndest thing, it’s not like him.”
“Oh I don’t know. Kyle can be quite bad when he wants.” Stan smirked as Kyle rolled his eyes back - either at the pleasures rolling up his spine, or at how much of a retard Stan was being. Even Kyle himself wasn’t entirely sure of that one.
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Stan supported the worn out body of his friend, as the hand-dryer fell into silence again.
“Did ya say something then, Stan?”
“Who me? Nothing at all. Catch you later, Butters.”
“Okay. See ya, Stan!” The bathroom door squeaked again and complete silence fell.
It took five seconds for Kyle to realise it was safe for him to breathe, then to ball his hand into a fist and hit Stan hard against the shoulder.
The dark-haired boy yelped, and jumped back, looking playfully hurt. “What was that for?”
“You know what that was for,” Kyle growled, fixing himself up. “See if I ever help you again.”
“You weren’t helping me in the first place, dude!”
“Yeah, well,” Kyle smirked, glancing down at Stan’s crotch; hard, wet and now sticky too. “You really need it now.” He quickly slipped around the stall’s door.
“God damnit, Kyle!” Stan shouted after him, but the telltale squeal told him that the redhead was already gone.
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