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Relevant	By : Zombiecest Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Relevant
- 1
"Stan? Stan, dude, seriously! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" My Super Best Friend, Stan Marsh, shoves me into his bedroom almost violently, slamming and locking the door behind the two of us and standing with his back to me for a good few seconds. I can only stare, completely and utterly mind boggled at the way he's been treating me in the last fifteen minutes. After a close to disabling punch to the head at the bus stop, my dark-haired companion all but dragged me the half mile to his house, not saying a word the whole time.

For a few split seconds I think that maybe this is just a joke, that maybe he's gonna turn around and look at me and it'll be all tight and bromance-y again but the moment he wheels around and looks at me, I know that chances of this being anything less than a forcible kidnapping are really, really slim. Stan tugs off his red puffball hat, running his fingers through his dark hair and giving me a steady look. "You know I can't be gay, right?"

"Huh?" I gawk at him, shaking my head a little bit. "Stan, no one ever said you were gay. Dude, you're like, the furthest fucking thing from it…"

"No, I'm not."

I blink, taking a step back as Stan advances on me. "Man, if you're coming out to me, you know I'm cool with it… Just calm down. Your parents will be all right with it, too."

"Kyle, I'm not gay! I'm not! That's just it." He takes another step forward and I back into his bed, managing to catch myself before I go down. He grabs my arm, dragging me forward and staring at me angrily. "And then there's you. You fucking little bitch, running around flaunting everything in front of me and pretending like you aren't trying to get me completely riled up over you."

I've never seen Stan this upset and frankly, it's a bit freaky. We're about the same height but my medical issues don't exactly make me the strongest person ever and he's a freaking baseball player. Something tells me that this shit isn't going to turn out well. There's a few awkward seconds of staring at each other and then Stan leans in with his eyes closed, obviously looking for a kiss, and I just stare, making that Kermit the Frog face as I try to back away from him more.

Stan cracks an eye open to find me desperately attempting to get him away from me and I guess that's enough to make him snap because all of a sudden his hand is in my hair, his leg is kicking mine out from beneath me, and I'm face-down on the bed of my best friend with Stan holding my arms behind my back and keeping me pinned there. I squirm, trying to buck him off, and Stan gets on top of me, grabbing the bottom of my t-shirt and practically tearing it off of me.

I screech, which is a little feminine even for my standards, and whip around, managing to elbow him in the chest but it has like, no effect on him. If anything, it makes him angrier because he grabs my hair again and slams my face against the wall against the head of his bed.

The pain is excruciating and instant; my nose cracks and blood pours down my face as my breath hitches in my throat and everything comes together; my best friend is about to rape me. I go really, really still in the hopes that Stan doesn't hurt me anymore, my breathing ragged and wet-sounding from the blood in my mouth. "Stan… Stan, oh, god, please don't do this! Please, Stan!"

"You're my best friend, right?"

I nod, swallowing and staying still out of fear. "Stan, yeah, of course… that's why I don't understand why you're doing this!"

"Because I have to." He keeps me pinned down, sitting on my upper legs and starting to undo his own jeans. "I'm obsessed. Every tiny little thing you do drives me absolutely fucking insane, Kyle. I need to do this to you."

I shake my head, starting to fight back at him again even though I know that this is going to happen whether I want it to or not. "Stan! Stan, fuck this, I'm not going to be your friend anymore if you rape me!"

"I'm all right with that. I'll get it out of my system and then we'll never speak again and I can get the fuck over whatever this is."

I manage to look at him, my eyes watering, although I'd love to tell myself that it's because of the pain from my broken nose and not because of this betrayal by the guy who's practically been my brother. He doesn't look like Stan, he looks like… like a fucking creep, like a goddamn rapist and nothing like the man I've known my whole life.

I search for some small little hint of sobriety that I might be missing in Stan's expression and I don't get it. There's nothing there that tells me he regrets it at all, nothing that I can possibly appeal to, and as he drops his jeans at the side of the bed, I lay face down on his clean white sheets that are getting more and more stained with my own blood and I let him do what he wants because like he said, we're best friends.

I'd do anything for him, even let him do this and dump me all because of some stupid idea about how he's supposed to look to other people. I'm upset as hell that it has to come to this sort of shit when we've been friends forever but like I just said, I'd do anything for Stan. I look over my shoulder at him and lick my lips, blinking for a few short seconds before turning away from him and swallowing. "Fuck, Stan… if you're gonna rape me, hurry up and do it already."

Stan grabs my pants and pulls them off, chucking them across the room and then managing to get my boxers off in one swift movement. He picks up my discarded t-shirt and tears it in half like it's a piece of paper, flipping me on my back and grabbing my wrists. He ties them together with half the t-shirt, using the other half to attach me to the metal frame of his bed before grabbing my boxers and shoving them in my mouth.

I gag at the taste of fabric, scrunching my face up as Stan knocks my legs apart with his hands, groping me shamelessly. My dick is totally hard by this point in time and I stare at him Stan jacking me off slowly, as though he's wanted to hold my cock for a long time. The feeling isn't totally bad, and he brushes his thumb over the tip, making me buck into his hand with a slight whimper; no one's ever touched my dick before, at least not like this.

He watches me curiously before swallowing and rolling off his bed, rummaging around in his underwear drawer for a long moment before tilting his head back and tossing some lube and a vibrator onto the bed. I stare at the objects, my gaze flickering to Stan after a moment because this is seeming less and less like rape and more and more like Stan honestly just wants to fuck me.

And it's not like my hard cock is exactly saying no.

Stan kneels next to me on the bed, picking up the vibrator absently and flicking it on as he rubs the tip of it against one of my nipples, the sensation shooting to my dick and then back up my spine to flood my head with hormones that I probably don't need at the moment. He watches me for a reaction as I arch off the bed, the pleasure intense, and he smirks before sliding the vibrator down, pressing the tip of the pink toy to the head of my hard dick.

The vibrations spread all through my cock, leaving me reeling from the pure pleasure it induces, and I grind my hips up, my body shamelessly trying to get more as my mind continues to scream that I don't actually want this shit. My face heats up and Stan gives me a look that clearly tells me that despite the fact that he broke my motherfucking nose and tied me to the bed, he never wanted to rape me.

Despite this being a rather consoling fact, I'm still incredibly fucking pissed that he ever thought this was a good idea in the first place. In fact, most of me is completely convinced that this is all Kenny's fault, seeing as how that damn redneck thinks no means yes and a couple of beers are the same as a wedding ring when it comes to fucking someone in the ass.

I work my tongue, finally managing to get my boxers out of my mouth and turning my head to the side, coughing slightly. "Stan, I swear to god… if this is some gay-ass way of you telling me you like me, you're doing it wrong."

"Then I guess I'm doing it wrong."

I stare at him, my nose still throbbing from being fucking slammed against the wall, and flail around a little bit. "Stan, what the fuck! You couldn't like, give me flowers or something and just say it that way? You broke my fucking nose!"

He leaned over, kissing me lightly on the blood stained lips and only making my face crinkle up as much as it can without leaving me in a ridiculous amount of pain. He looks at me and then abruptly presses the vibrator back up against my dick, making me arch up off the bed and gasp headily.

He watches me for a few seconds before pouring some lube on the vibrator and sliding it into me easily. I cry out, tugging at the restraints tying me to the bed and squeezing my eyes shut. It hurts but there's an inherent pleasure in it as well, the vibrations hitting my core and heading out over every nerve, hitting every pleasure center and making me cry out against my better judgment.

Stan leaves the vibrator in and leans down, kissing me lightly on the mouth and dragging his tongue over my lower lip slowly. He kisses my jaw lightly and then nips at my neck, starting to jack me off slowly and surely, continuing to kiss down the line of my body as he runs his fingers down my cock. He takes the end of the vibrator and starts working me slowly, moving it in and out at an excruciatingly slow pace, obviously teasing me.

I stare at him and then buck involuntarily, moaning in the back of my throat. "St-Stan, please, if you're going to do this, do it!"

He blinks and then a slow smirk creeps across his face. The hand gripping the vibrator flicks the things switch, turning it straight up to max and pressing it against my prostate. I cry out; it feels so fucking good, so much better than anything I've ever done to myself, and I can barely form coherent sentences anymore because of it. It is quite possibly the best I've ever felt.

I stare up at him, the blood from my nose drying on my face, practically sobbing from the overstimulation. Then Stan hefts my legs up, slaps some lube on his cock, and plows right on in next to the vibrator.

I scream. Oh, fuck, do I scream. It's not 'painful', really; I think the vibrator has done a pretty fucking amazing job of numbing me up down below. It's more a sudden intrusion and then a burning sensation in my ass, couple with the fact that the vibrator is still going at max. Stan thrusts into me, hands propped on the metal bar at the head of his bed.

I cry out, the vibrator and his thick cock slamming against my prostate at the same time and leaving my head reeling from the pure pleasure of it all. Stan keeps thrusting and eventually what little pain there was is replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure, tears dripping down my cheeks as I take all every thrust in stride, my own cock dripping with precum but getting no attention.

Stan finally takes a hold of it, jacking me off confidently as he times the pace with his thrusts, his fist circled firmly around my cock as he fucks me hard. It feels fucking awesome as he slams his dick into me roughly, the vibrator only making me headier as he pounds my poor ass. I know that I'm going to fucking regret this later but holy crap, I can't get enough of this. It feels so amazing.

I finally cum, my seed spurting across my chest and stomach, and lay against the bed panting, squeezing my eyes shut as he slams into me for a little. After a few more minutes, my whole core is flooded with heat and Stan pulls out of me, leaving the vibrator humming in my sore ass. He moves to untie me and I bite at him, chest heaving as I speak, my green eyes searching his momentarily. He arches an eyebrow, running his hand up one of my arms. "What? I was gonna let you go."

"No. You're gonna do me until I tell you to stop, Stan Marsh. You broke my nose, now I'm gonna make goddamn sure you make up for it."
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