Chapter Text
The cell phone was resting on his chest as he scrolled through the screen with his left thumb. The faint light from the device illuminating his face was the only source of light in the room. Stan was lying in bed. His other hand was stroking his hard dick.
Nothing. He kept searching.
Watching porn wasn't a recurring habit—it practically didn't exist—especially when he was in a relationship. And his last relationship, which hadn't ended long ago, had lasted about three years. That was how long he'd gone without consuming any pornographic media to masturbate. Even now, none of it pleased him. Something, no matter how minimal, bothered Stan.
The guys were handsome, but they didn't kiss right; they were clumsy. The movements were robotic, the touches superficial, nothing convincing. There was a lack of warmth, desire, want. They got paid for this shit, but their performance was terrible. His frustration overcame his arousal.
Stan sighed, holding the phone with his dominant hand. He'd find a decent video before he started touching himself again.
At some point, he started searching for "hot blonde guy" because "hot blonde guys" were Stan's type. He frowned when he found a video.
No fucking way. He opened it and hit play. The video started rolling.
"Kenny?" his voice was a mix of shock and disbelief.
The video was short, with edited scenes of Kenny fucking a guy.
Looking through the available info below, Stan found the name Kenny used: Mysterion Myst. Stan laughed. What a shitty name. Mysterion was the pseudonym Kenny used when they were kids playing superhero. At the same time, the name gave no hint of his real name, although his face was exposed. Anyway, he'd never heard anyone in South Park mention Kenny's fate.
Kenny left South Park sometime after graduating high school. He took his little sister, Karen, with him. Seven years later, and Stan hadn't heard from him, until now. But how would he have? By adolescence, they weren't as close as they'd been in childhood. They'd become acquaintances. Kyle, his best friend, however, still kept sporadic contact with Kenny, because Kenny was still good friends with Cartman, Kyle's boyfriend. But Kyle never mentioned that Kenny had become a porn star. Maybe he didn't know. If he knew, Kyle would have told him.
Stan typed his stage name into the browser search, and more videos appeared. There were countless videos of him with women and men. It couldn't be otherwise; Kenny was openly involved with both genders.
Out of curiosity, Stan opened a video of him with a woman. He opened a few others where Kenny was with men. There was a pattern, Stan noticed. Kenny was the top in all of them. Also, he had an appealing heat contrasting with the other performances he'd watched earlier. The way he touched the bottoms, held them… Stan bit his lip.
Kenny was the embodiment of the "hot blonde" Stan was actively searching for. He was tall; his light, short, messy hair gave him some softness, but his handsome face and attitude gave him an air of an attractive rogue. His body was also muscular and defined. In adolescence, Kenny was scrawny and malnourished. From various angles, Stan observed the tattoos rippling across parts of his back and arm. He looked so hot.
Stan settled into bed, hard as a rock. He opened a video where Kenny was masturbating—he found it on his Twitter profile, which had a link to his OnlyFans, which Stan subscribed to later—and jerked off along with him until he came.
This became Stan's dirty little secret—masturbating to the explicit videos of his childhood friend.
Stan parked the car near Kyle's house. There were other cars parked there too.
Stan let out a sigh he'd been holding since he left home. He was feeling pressured. He ran his fingers through his black hair and held the back of his neck, somewhat nervous. He was about to reunite with Kenny after years. Stan had developed a crush on Kenny over the last few months, and his concern came from the fact that he didn't have the best reputation in front of his romantic interests. Although he hoped not to embarrass himself, he doubted he'd have any success around Kenny. Worst of all: it was always painfully noticeable.
Still fearful and hesitant, he got out of the car, locking it and shoving the keys into his pants pocket.
Stan was late on purpose. He stalled as much as he could, until he received a passive-aggressive message from Kyle asking how much longer he'd take.
Kenny had recently moved back to South Park, and Kyle, being the good friend that he was, organized a welcome-back party for him at his house. Some people they'd studied with and were still acquaintances still lived in town, and Kenny had been a popular guy in high school, so why not a small gathering to welcome him?
Stan rang the bell and waited until Kyle answered. When Kyle saw him, his expression turned into a scowl.
"Why are you late?"
Stan hadn't replied to his message. Plus, Kyle hated tardiness, especially Stan's. He was so annoyingly punctual. It had always been like this. Why did Stan still roll his eyes at it?
"Dude, my bad," Stan dodged the question, entering the house. "At least I'm here, right?" He offered a weak smile that didn't convince Kyle.
As he closed the door, Kyle walked away, leaving Stan alone. At least Kyle's irritation was temporary.
Looking around, he noted that only a few people had been invited. Kyle wasn't into parties, nor did he throw any, so when one happened, the people entering his house were handpicked.
On the living room couch, Craig was sitting with Tweek on his lap, his arms holding him firmly against himself. Their hands were intertwined. Beside them were Tolkien and Nichole. The four were chatting placidly. The television in front was on, playing some bland music, typical of Kyle, but since the volume was moderate, Stan could tolerate it.
Near the glass door were Jimmy, Clyde and Bebe. Clyde and Bebe were laughing at some stupid joke Jimmy told. Around there were also one or two other people Stan only knew from afar.
Voices came from the kitchen. Quite animated voices. He was there.
Briefly greeting his friends on the couch, Stan headed to the kitchen. If he dealt with the elephant in the room sooner, he'd get rid of the disturbance afflicting him sooner.
When he entered, his eyes were drawn straight to Kenny's tall figure, which stood out from the others. He was much better in person. Anyway, Kenny's eyes also stared at Stan the moment he walked in. Without hesitation, Kenny came toward him and wrapped him in a tight hug.
"Stanley!" he exclaimed. "Long time no see, dude!"
Stan timidly hugged his waist, resting his head against his hard chest. With his nose pressed against his shirt, Stan inhaled the scent he gave off. If Kenny weren't holding him, Stan might have lost his balance. Kenny smelled so good…
"Yeah, it's been a while," Stan said awkwardly when Kenny released him.
"But some things haven't changed, huh?" Kenny teased, kind of flirting. Stan blushed. "Awesome tattoo."
"Oh, right." Holy shit, he wanted to dig a hole in the ground and bury his head in it. He was acting like a total wuss. He couldn't even form a sentence, or react without seeming like an idiot.
He touched the tattoo on the side of his neck with his fingertips. It was a tribal design painted all in black. Although it drew attention, Stan liked it. He'd gotten it as soon as he turned eighteen—besides still having the piercing in his eyebrow. This combination gave him a less basic style, but Stan liked not being conventionally basic. In adolescence, he was a self-declared emo, and these were the remnants left from that time. They contrasted with the loose, fluffy sweater he was wearing now.
"Besides being a hippie, Stanny turned into a fag too, y'know?" Cartman approached, laughing at his own unfunny joke.
Stan rolled his eyes and moved away. He wasn't in the mood for Kyle's annoying boyfriend.
There, besides Kenny and Cartman, were also Kyle and Butters. Kyle was messing around in the fridge and Butters was sitting near the counter.
"Hey, dude," Stan grabbed a cup from the counter filled with alcohol and took a sip. He frowned at the bad taste of the cheap drink but kept drinking anyway.
"Hey," replied Butters, not very interested. What he did seem interested in was Kenny, if his fixed gaze was anything to go by.
Stan didn't trust himself near Kenny, so he left the kitchen, going over to where Craig, Tweek and Tolkien were. Nichole had moved away to talk to Bebe.
Tolkien, in a placid tone, was explaining to Stan and Craig the etymology of a character's name from a game they'd recently started playing together. Stan couldn't have been less interested. His drink was empty and he didn't even have that to distract himself. At least he was a little tipsy from the alcohol.
Suddenly, Kenny walked through the living room, accompanied by Butters, who resembled a puppy dog following its owner. They went out the glass door, heading to the garden. Stan clenched his jaw.
Stan got up and left his friends behind without an explanation. Kenny and Butters seemed very close, and Stan's curiosity—jealousy—got the better of him. He approached the glass door discreetly. The gentle breeze caressed his face.
Kenny and Butters were sitting on the wooden bench placed on the soft, green grass. Kenny had an arm resting on the back of the bench, so he was sort of hugging Butters, who was very close.
A greater despair took hold of Stan. A deep, unbridled irritation. He wanted to forcefully drag Butters away from Kenny.
Stan had always known Butters was an easy slut. Kenny had barely been back in South Park and Butters was already throwing himself at him like that? And Kenny… Kenny was an idiot! That's what he was. Always hooking up with whoever appeared in front of him. He didn't even have the decency to choose someone better.
His skin burned, his feelings speaking louder than his reason. He tried to compose himself, but it didn't work; anger was stronger than his intrinsic shyness, and Stan approached them.
Kenny was smoking a cigarette. It was the perfect—too convenient—opportunity to interrupt them. Stan took his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pulled one out.
"Dude, you got a lighter I can borrow? I forgot to bring mine."
Kenny and Butters looked up. Kenny pondered for a second before speaking, "Mine just ran out. Sucks, right?" Kenny flashed a smile, a gleam shining in his eyes. "But come here."
He placed the cigarette between his lips, holding it between his fingers, and leaned forward. Following the cue, Stan put his between his lips and, also holding it between his fingers, touched the tips of the cigarettes together.
Their eyes met, but his revealed nothing, though it was fixed on Stan's. As soon as the cigarette lit, Stan pulled away.
"Thanks, dude," Stan took a drag.
"Why don't you join us? We were reminiscing about the old times, weren't we, Butters?"
"There's no place for him to sit," Butters replied, displeased. He had a scowl adorning his face.
"I can stand," Stan retorted, looking at Butters with disdain.
Kenny was tall. Butters was tall. Stan was tall. Evidently, three people of their size didn't fit on that bench, indeed. But then Kenny interjected, seeming too cheerful, "You can sit on my lap," he extended his hand gently to Stan, who was surprised by the offer. Butters was incredulous. "No problem."
"It's not…"
"Appropriate? I don't mind, and there's no one around here but us," Kenny smiled. He looked beautiful when he smiled.
Stan took Kenny's hand and let himself be guided to sit on one of his open thighs. His smell hit him hard once again.
"It's inappropriate." Butters' expression was dark, and venom dripped from his accusation.
"Have I ever told you you're an obvious slut?" That slipped out before Stan could contain himself. "He just got back, and you're already throwing yourself at him. It's shameful."
"You're so naive, Stanley! So full of yourself! You still think everything revolves around you, that's why you came here to meddle, isn't it? Because the slut throwing herself around here is you. You're the one sitting on his lap, you slut!" shouted Butters, standing up.
Stan was about to retort when Kenny firmly wrapped his arm around his waist, keeping him in place.
"Stop it, both of you," Kenny's voice was serious, but also calm. He certainly didn't seem to be amused by the exchange of insults. "You're twenty-five years old, for God's sake! Act like it!"
Stan shrank back, blushing. Butters looked angrily at Kenny, but was equally flushed.
Then Butters left, stomping away. Stan got what he wanted. Suddenly, he felt the cigarette burning his finger. He dropped it on the ground, stubbing it out with his sneaker sole. He hadn't even wanted to smoke at that moment to begin with.
"Are you happy?"
Stan looked at Kenny.
"Yeah, I am."
Kenny smiled. He also got rid of his cigarette butt and held Stan's face, who leaned into his touch, instinctively.
"You're right," Kenny admired Stan's pretty, delicate face. "You're too obvious when you're interested in someone, Stanley. You've always been like that. At least you don't vomit anymore."
"Shut up. Don't remind me how embarrassing that is."
"Sure, sweetheart," Kenny removed his hand from his face.
They remained still until Stan gathered the courage to look into Kenny's eyes, which didn't stray from his. Stan settled better on his lap and held his shoulders. Kenny straightened up, and Stan brought his face closer, but it was Kenny who stole a kiss from him. Stan stole a kiss from him; and with stolen pecks they remained until Kenny held his nape and deepened the act, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. The kiss didn't last long, however, because Stan felt Kenny's dick poking his thigh, and pulled away.
He looked down, looked at Kenny. Stan noticed that the sky-blue in his eyes had diminished due to his blown pupils. Stan palped his dick, noting its impressive thickness and length. Stan bit his lips. Kenny watched him, silent, but interested. The moment Stan tried to shove his hand inside his pants, however, his wrist was held, prevented from continuing.
"Not here, cutie."
"Inside," Stan suggested, anxious for Kenny to agree.
"Inside," Kenny agreed.
"Wait for me upstairs," Stan said, getting up.
Kenny did the same, but before heading to the upper floor of the house, he gently held Stan's chin and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. When Kenny was gone, Stan went after Kyle, who was still in the kitchen.
"Dude, give me the keys to the rooms."
Kyle looked at him out of the corner of his eye, stopping what he was doing, "What for?"
"I'm gonna fuck Kenny and I need the lube I know you have in your room."
"You're gonna do what?" The irritation and indignation were evident in Kyle's whisper.
"Kyle, please," Stan begged in a practiced way. It usually worked. "I haven't fucked anyone since me and Gary broke up! Can you help me out this once?!"
Kyle pondered. He closed his eyes, sighing, giving in. He took the keyring from his pants pocket and handed it to Stan.
"You're gonna buy me new bedsheets!"
"Whatever you want, dude," Stan couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.
Stan found Kenny leaning against the hallway wall. He was on his phone, and his other hand was shoved in his pocket. He looked cool and very hot.
Stan went to the guest room door and opened it as soon as he found the right key among the others. He stepped aside to let Kenny enter first. Then he went to Kyle's room. As soon as he entered, he went straight to the nightstand, where he found and grabbed the lubricant. But for a second he hesitated, remembering that besides Kyle using it, Kyle also used it with Cartman. He cut off the thoughts. He wouldn't dwell on that right now. He locked the door when he left and returned to the room where Kenny was waiting for him. The moment he closed the door and locked it, the lubricant slipped from his grip.
Kenny pushed Stan against the white wooden door, holding his face and taking his lips in a deep kiss. Despite the initial surprise, since he didn't know how much Kenny longed for the same thing, Stan gave in.
Kenny's mouth tasted like mint and cigarette. His probably tasted like cigarette and alcohol. Kenny didn't seem to care.
Kenny led the kiss. Stan took the opportunity to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up. Kenny pulled away to take the piece off. When he tried to kiss him again, Stan dodged. He was admiring Kenny's muscular chest and defined abdomen. There were some blond hairs on his chest and a trail of them down to his genitals. Stan touched Kenny, feeling the hardness under his fingers.
"Fuck, it's even better in person."
"You watch my videos?" Kenny asked, curious.
Stan realized what he'd said and blushed, avoiding Kenny's gaze.
"Kenny..."
"Is that why you didn't want Butters around? You wanted to be first, big boy?"
"Shut the fuck up," Stan pushed Kenny, who didn't let his smile waver. He didn't seem embarrassed or offended by his line of work. He seemed very confident, actually.
"You're treating me like a prostitute, Stanley," Kenny said in an affected, fake tone. He even brought his hand to his chest to emphasize the staged drama.
Kenny had always been one to joke and mess around. Stan noticed that hadn't changed, but it didn't stop him from feeling a little embarrassed and trying to justify himself.
"One day I found a video of you and... I started watching them frequently. I found out I really want to fuck you. Sorry if that sounds perverted, or whatever..."
"Don't be dramatic," Kenny pulled him by the waist and buried his face in Stan's neck. Between kisses and hickeys, he said, "I don't mind. I've always wanted to fuck you. Too bad back then you were the straightest guy in school and dated Testaburger."
Stan wrapped his arms around Kenny's neck, seeking support. His touches were making him weak. He was incredibly goosebumpy and sensitive. His dick got hard.
"I thought I was straight. It was... it was a confusing time."
"Yeah, it was," Kenny agreed, with a hint of resentment in his voice that didn't go unnoticed. Stan didn't have time to question it, because suddenly he was picked up. Kenny sat on the edge of the bed with him in his arms. They started kissing again and Stan began to rub himself, needily, against Kenny's lap.
Stan's fingers curled into Kenny's hair, pulling the blond strands. His hands went down his nape, down his shoulders, squeezing them. Kenny's hands, meanwhile, invaded his sweater and traced the line of his spine, making Stan tremble. Then they squeezed Stan's ass, bringing him closer. Stan sighed.
"So beautiful..." Kenny panted against his lips. "So hot, Stanley..."
"Hm..." Stan helped Kenny take off his sweater. Kenny's lips caught one of his nipples. In reflex, Stan held his head, gently caressing his hair, while watching him touch him like that. The soft, pinkish lips sucked diligently at his equally pinkish nipple, alternating with tongue movements.
"Holy shit, Ken..."
"I need to fuck you," Kenny said looking up. His bright blue eyes shone under his blown pupils. He looked like an angelic being, such was his beauty. Stan discovered he couldn't refuse a request from him.
Stan got off his lap, getting rid of the rest of his clothes. Kenny did the same. On Stan, only the white socks rolled around his ankles remained.
He picked up the lube bottle forgotten on the floor, opened the cap, and poured a generous amount of the sticky liquid into his palm. When he looked back at Kenny, he was leaning slightly back, supporting himself on his hands. On his face was a mischievous smile. Stan returned the smile, a little shy, biting his lip. It was surprising to be fulfilling a desire like that.
Returning to Kenny's lap, Stan rubbed his palms to warm the lube a little before wrapping them around Kenny's hard dick, who let out a whistle and trembled beneath him.
The movements started slow and gradual. He coated the large, thick organ. No less than eight inches, Stan concluded. Maybe somewhere between nine and ten. He wasn't scared; after all, Kenny was a porn star. Still, he was impressed. He knew it was beautiful, had seen it in videos and photos, but... Stan licked his lips. Kenny's dick was pinkish and well-shaped. Plus, he didn't wax. Stan appreciated that rustic detail. Gosh, what a funny thought. Stan also liked the fact that Kenny was cut. It was hotter when the foreskin wasn't getting in the way somehow. Being able to feel the whole glans in your mouth without having to pull the skin back... Damn, his mouth was watering. He wanted to suck Kenny.
"It looks so good..."
"You can suck it later, hot stuff. I promise—Fuck!" Kenny moaned when Stan purposely pressed his thumb against a bulging vein.
"You promise, huh?" Stan teased, with a little smile.
"I promise," Kenny's voice was hoarse, loaded with excitement. "I'll feed you my cum, sweetheart. You must look even prettier with that little mouth full of cock."
Stan looked at Kenny with an amused expression. Kenny's promises were fun.
Kenny leaned in to grab Stan's ass. He stuck his tongue out and Stan ran his over it, then wrapped his lips around it.
He went back to staring at his hands jerking Kenny off. It was impressive to be able to do it with both.
When Kenny's finger pressed against his hole, Stan lifted his torso, supporting himself on his knees.
"You don't need to," he assured him. He was relaxed, and with the amount of lube he'd used on Kenny's dick, the stretch wouldn't be too difficult.
He reached behind to grab the penis from that angle and lined the head up with his entrance. Little by little, Stan inserted Kenny's dick inside himself. He took his time to avoid hurting himself. For support, Kenny held him by the hips.
He wiped his hands on the bedsheets when he fully sat down, since he'd have to get new ones for Kyle anyway. But he felt a little overwhelmed; that's when Kenny took control, wrapping an arm around his waist, bringing Stan closer to him.
"You okay?" he asked, gently holding Stan's face. "Can you handle it like this?"
With half-lidded eyes, Stan agreed.
"Yeah, I can..."
Kenny kissed the corner of his lips. Stan wrapped his arms around Kenny's neck, seeking support, and then he moved, gradually finding the rhythm of the movements. Kenny's dick slid easily and completely inside him.
Meanwhile, as Stan did the hard work—though exciting, since the tip of Kenny's dick hit his prostate directly—Kenny went back to attacking his neck.
"Kenny, oh my God," Stan hugged Kenny tightly. After a while, the weight of his position became too much and Stan lost strength, too tired to continue.
Kenny, helpful, was quick to switch positions. He laid Stan on the bed, staying between his legs, which he placed over his shoulders, relieving the muscles in Stan's thighs. Kenny then fucked Stan with uncontrolled momentum.
There, all that could be heard was the friction of skin against skin, mixed with their alternating moans. Stan's were higher and sharper; Kenny's sounded like growls. Stan was immersed in the sensation of Kenny's dick entering and leaving his body repeatedly. He reached between his legs and started jerking off, pressing his fingers against the sensitive head.
He was almost there. He reached out to grab one of Kenny's clenched buttocks to bring him closer. He needed Kenny as deep as possible.
"Kenny!" Stan squeezed his eyes shut, contracted his muscles, and came, dirtying his stomach.
Hypnotized by the scene, Kenny forced Stan's legs open and kept pounding the used hole until he buried himself inside and came. Stan threw his head back, overstimulated.
Kenny pulled out of Stan, lying down beside him. Kenny's cum dripped from his ass.
They remained in silence, their heavy, panting breath slowly stabilizing. Kenny stretched out his arm, and understanding the cue, Stan laid his head there. On his side, his body fitted against Kenny's, Stan threw his leg over his. Kenny leaned in to give him an Eskimo kiss. Then he kissed his forehead.
"So you had a crush on me in school," Stan tried to hide his smile by pressing his lips together. Kenny, in turn, opened a radiant smile.
"Dude, who didn't?"
Stan laughed.
"Everyone wanted to hook up with you too," Stan reminded him, poking Kenny's flank. "And now you've managed to become even more beautiful and hot."
"You think so?" Kenny raised his eyebrows, contemplating Stan's face. Gently, he traced an invisible line along Stan's jaw with his thumb.
"Yeah, I do."
Kenny and Stan kissed again.
"I wanna fuck you again, hot stuff."
With a little smile, Stan sat on Kenny's hips.
"Now?"
"Now."
Kenny held Stan's waist, who ground against his pelvis. Suddenly, he dodged Kenny's touch, pulling away.
"We need to get back to your party, Mysterion Myst," Stan got out of bed, laughing, and got dressed, not caring about Kenny's sperm on his ass.
"You've always been a fucking tease, Stanley," Kenny said, a scowl on his face.