BY : RandomJaz
Category: +S through Z > South Park
Dragon prints: 7362
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of it's characters, nor do I profit from this fanfiction.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey! Double update, today-Chapters 24 and 25. Hope you enjoy.

These chapters are going to be touching upon these characters' bonds. Give some insight to the ties holding them together and their significance.

As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! Hope you're all healthy and well.

Also: Song referenced in this chapter is "I'll fly with you". The version I have on my phone is sung in the style of D.J. Ultradance.


I fell asleep on Stan that afternoon. Laying half on top of him, I woke up feeling his body pull away from under me. Groggy and disorientated, I grabbed his sweatshirt.

"Where are you going?" I blinked heavy lids at him, half asleep. "Stay."

Stan was torn, but decided.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's four thirty...Mike's going to be here soon."

Blurry with sleep, I squinted at the digital clock. The big numbers came in to focus after a few blinks and some concentration. My phone buzzed with a text. Sure enough, Mike was just leaving the high school.

Stan got up, car keys in hand. He brushed back my bangs, chastely pecking my forehead. I wasn't fully awake yet. If I shut my eyes for a second too long I would have fallen right back asleep. I was beginning to.

"Stay at Mike's" Stan whispered when my eyes shut. "Don't spend the night here."

When I opened my eyes again, it was to my phone ringing. It felt like I had just shut my eyes for a second. About half an hour passed

. Stan was gone and Mike was in my driveway.


Mike's parents had a favorite restaurant they liked to go to every year for Valentine's Day. He cooked food for us in their absence, putting together some spaghetti and meatballs, toasting fresh bakery bread in the oven to warm it up, and putting together a green salad.

"This is my great grandmother's gravy recipe."

"Gravy?" I looked at the red sauce he was ladling over two plates of spaghetti. "Are you talking about the spaghetti sauce?"

"Italians call it gravy. We make it ourselves. That stuff you buy in the jar is sauce. My great Nona would roll over in her grave if I served someone that."

Mike put a piece of bread on my plate and grated fresh parmesan over the spaghetti.

"Especially someone so special to me."

"You didn't have to cook for me…this was thoughtful."

"Enjoy it, baby bat. There's plenty."

We ate in what should've been comfortable silence. I sat in the chair adjacent to Mike, but I felt like there was such a distance between us. Even when we exchanged gifts. I felt like I was in the wrong place.

This is where I wanted to be.

"This is for you...thought you'd like it. It goes with your room."

I got Mike a fake black rose to add to the red ones he had in that flower vase I made. It had glittery red trimming along the petals, which were mostly closed. He chuckled a little before showing me a similar rose with green, the petals spread open and full in full bloom.

"We really need to stop coordinating gifts." I joked half-heartedly.

"Some might consider it coincidence." Mike said. "I like to think it means something."

Looking at me lovingly, Mike smiled.

"I truly believe everything happens for a reason."

He then noticed my eyeliner was smudged and not as sharp as it could be. I hadn't fixed it earlier. He went and got an eyeliner pencil

"I took a nap today."

"You really need to use better make up." He touched me up, drawing new wings with fresh eyeliner. "You have such beautiful eyes. It's a waste not to embrace that."

Mike's hazel eyes could give mine a run for their money. When you could see them.

"Coming from the guy wearing red contacts."

"I can take them out for you."

" don't mind, do you?"

Mike washed his hands and carefully took out the costume contact lenses. As he put them away, I noticed his long acrylic nails were gone. His natural nails were super short and filed down with a new coat of black polish.

"You removed your nails?"

Curling his long fingers inward to inspect them, Mike stretched them back out again to show me.

"Indeed, I did."

"That's different. What made you do that? Did you break one?"

He was meticulous about his nails. The only thing he took better care of than his nails was his hair and face. His routine exhausted me just thinking about it. He got up every morning and put himself together like he were taking on the world. And, every night he washed it all down the drain to do it over again the next day.

"I was thinking what a shame it is how much they were holding me back." Mike drew a line down my jaw, dragging his nails over my skin letting me feel the smooth, blunt tips.

"Holding you back?" I questioned before quickly coming up to speed when Mike began leaning closer, nails now traveling down my spine suggestively. "O-Oh."

He nixed his nails for me. It was such a blatantly forward move. Of all the days he has short nails, it's Valentine's Day. And I naïvely asked what the deal was.

"Baby bats should be played with gently." He purred, nose to nose with me. "No claws."

"Just teeth, right?"


Mike parted my lips with his. I brought my hands up to his hair. He gently removed them, kissing me for just a moment.

"...what?" I felt a little rejected.

"I have something else for you." Mike made sure to give me that nurturing smile before pulling away. "Be a good bat and wait here."

He went upstairs, and came back maybe five minutes later with a bowl of strawberries and whipped cream. More notably, he came back wearing his stilettos and tiny black leather shorts so low on his waist I could bite his hip if he came close enough.

Around his neck was a strip of glossy black ribbon fastened in to an oversized bow.

"Don't gifts usually come with a little more… wrapping paper?" I couldn't believe what I was looking at.

Mike sauntered forward. He swirled one ripe strawberry in whipped cream and offered it to me. I obediently opened my mouth. He could put the end of his heel in a man's mouth and most of them would have sucked it to appease him.

"You don't wrap dessert." The tip of his finger passed my lips. "You indulge in it."


The empty bowl sat wiped clean of its whipped cream with the fresh fruit we ate. I could taste it on him as we kissed, our clothes long forgotten on the floor. His heels sat propped next to my boots, my clothes piled under his shorts.


Palm up between my legs, Mike had two curled fingers inside of me. He carefully searched for the sensitive bundle of nerves amongst the hot, slippery flesh squeezing him.

"You're tensing up." Mike talked me down. "Take a breath...there we go."

Laid beside me, Mike softly rubbed it with a limber hand, massaging the delicate spot with the pads of his fingers. My knees were bent slightly up, beginning to twitch. I broke a sweat, flush from his touch. Mike sensually bit his bottom lip, aroused at the sight.

The sensation blossoming deep inside me where his fingers were, it seeped up in to my lower belly concentrating in my pelvis. Sometimes Stan accidentally grazed my prostate and I'd get a little hint of that pleasurable sensation. Mike gave me more, and more, and more...

I could just barely taste climax, it dangled at my lips just out of reach.

"You're nice and warmed up." Mike's mischievous tongue licked the pulse point on my throat. "It's beautiful how pink you're almost like a virgin."

I panted, doing everything in my power not to claw anything within reach. Including Mike. I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to do everything else to him. As soon as he was done with me.

"Mike…" I moaned as I felt a metal stud drag across my skin. "Oh, God…I'm close, but I can't…"

"Yes, you can." He murmured in to my skin. "Go ahead."

"N-No, really…I can't."

Mike's fingers glided through copious lubricant, with quiet wet pops as he fingered me. My ears tuned in to it immediately. Lube was a gift from God, but Lord the mechanics of it were awful on the ears.

"Stop thinking." he coaxed me. "Just relax."

"I-I'm trying."

Moments ticked by, Mike trying to will my body to succumb under his touch. My cock ached, throbbing with unsatisfied need. I was overwhelmed, fevered, and on fire.

His crimson sheets rippled and swirled around us like drifting magma boiling up and breaking the surface-swallowing what's in its path and graciously burning it,

I wanted to cum. I needed to. Throwing in the towel, I reached for it to help myself along. Mike caught me with his free hand, softly lacing his fingers with mine.

"Ah-ah." He scolded warmly, laying my hand to rest along the silken pillow case by my cheek. "None of that, no. Oh, no no no."

Mike touched me assertively but with care, pumping his long fingers to a firm steady rhythm. I had to cum without touching myself. It felt impossible with never having done it before. I wanted release, and I wanted it soon.

"Please, Mike. I need it." I weakly pushed against his grip. "I'll cum, just let me-"

"No use begging...though it's deliciously becoming."

Mike kissed my Adam's apple, just below the pendant hanging off my choker.

"Give in to me." His lips moved up, kissing the red ribbon with black lace.

I writhed at the feathery kisses ghosting over me. I was tethering on the edge of something... Release was creeping closer. This was happening.

If I could tip over the edge...

Mike's lips disappeared off my skin for a moment.

"Sweet, succulent little bat…" His tongue traced just below my choker. "I would know."

When he nipped the skin there with the very front of his teeth, the little jolt of surprise did me in.

"Shit-" The cuss was sharp with an elongated, yell. "Mike!"


Mike curled his leg around mine, pressing himself in to my side. He anchored me down in the throes of climax, embracing me how he could. My face showed it all: the shock, the amazement, and the pure orgasmic rapture.

My own release shot up, hitting me my abdomen. The warm liquid fluid glistened where it landed. The air had a buzz to it, then went still as my heartrate dropped back down. The warm afterglow billowed over me, casting Mike in warm fuzzy, pink angelic light.

"I could watch that over and over again." He sighed outside my ear.

He eased his long slender fingers out of me.

"As a matter of fact, I think I will."

Mike graciously licked me clean, moving down my abdomen with his tongue. He lightly sucked at me, getting the rest of it. His hand slid between my parted legs, stopping right at the apex of my thighs. His lips curled around my cock.

"Actually..." He climbed off the mattress, taking the silky warmth of his mouth with him. "I have a better idea."

I heard him drag out the lock box from under his bed. With an arsenal of toys, there was no shortage of options. The vibrating bullets had been fun...I was hoping for those. Mike tried something different on me. A black silicone butt plug.

"What's the point of that?" I asked, Mike coaxing me to turn over on to my hands and knees for him. "It doesn't vibrate."

I let him position me, trusting his judgement. Mike generously lubed it up and pressed the opaque silicone toy inside me. My body obediently swallowed it, leaving just the round stud to lay outside my entrance. Mike lightly pulled it.

"Hey-" My ass reflexively held on.

"Don't worry, your body will let it go." He played with the plug, carefully working it out of me and pushing it back in. "See?"

I groaned in to the bedsheets, feeling my entrance dilate open and close shut each time he moved it.

"We have so many nerve endings down here... You don't always need battery to make a man squirm."

"I didn't think I'd ever like this sort of thing."

"Preparation is everything."

He teased my entrance with it, drizzling extra lubricant for good measure.

"When you share your body with someone, you should always enjoy it...I wish you could've sooner."

The cap to the lube clicked shut and Mike set it aside in the sheets.

"Can't do anything about that now." I disregarded the topic.

"Actually, I've been thinking."

Unsure of where this was going, I kept my eyes down on the bedspread in front of me.


How bad could it possibly be if he was bringing it up now? Mike wasn't the type to drop bombs on delicate events.

"You gave him your body...But, you were never made love to." Mike said it with such certainty, some empathy. "I've been thinking how devastating that is."

"Oh." I sighed under my breath, dismissively. "So, what."


Kneeling behind me, Mike eased me up off the sheets, hands on my shoulders. My back to his chest, I resisted when he tried getting me to crane my face over my shoulder.

"Drop your walls." Mike coaxed.

"...If I can't?" I mumbled wearily.

"I'm asking you to try, baby bat." He encouraged. "For me? It's just us."

I was trying. Mike proved time and time again that my body was safe with him. That I was safe with him. The words "make love" weren't menacing or threatening in any way. But, they made me uneasy.

There were butterflies in my stomach...and this tight feeling in my chest where my heart was.

"...I never took you as one to top."

"Does it intimidate you?"

"It shouldn't. Not like I haven't been fucked before."

Mike caressed his short black nails over the tops of my thighs.

"I'm not trying to fuck you." He reminded me.

"Whatever you want to call it. It's the same thing."

"You truly don't think there's a difference?"

"...I get that it's Valentine's day, but you don't have to lay it on so thick."

My attempt to sabotage Mike's intentions didn't work. He didn't even acknowledge the weak backhanded remark. It was hollow.

"Are you scared to be intimate, baby bat?"

"It's not that serious. Mike, just fuck me, or don't."

I figured this would cause an argument, or at least bring everything to a heavy halt. Mike clucked his tongue empathetically.

"It's very serious. You mean far more to me than that."


"You know that, don't you?"

Whether I knew it, or not, wasn't the question. It's whether I believed. Or, wanted to believe.

Or, accepted.

"Four months."

"...what?" Mike didn't understand my answer.

"It's only been four months." I repeated, firmer this time. "Together."

"It has." He agreed. "And, I've loved every second of them."

I don't know what I was feeling. The faintest sensation of something prickled low in my gut. The tension in my chest deflated similar to air leaking from a balloon, slowly blowing back up with something else.

"Have you, Pete?" Mike's gentle voice pried hopefully. "Are you happy?"

"I don't know how to answer that. I like you...I like being here. With you."

Mike's lips lingered by the outer shell of my ear, the side of his head rested along mine. His arms encircled my waist.

"What does my baby bat need?" I shut my eyes at the feathery sensation of Mike's lips. "Tell me."

They were always soft and coated with cherry Chapstick. Those supple, delicate lips generously spilled sweet words and kisses I didn't know I needed until I found myself coming back for more. Again. And, again.

It never felt old, insincere, or conditional. I secretly looked forward to it. I was starting to need it. Scared to lose it.

Scared to lose him.

"...can we not use the word love?" My voice shook at the end, I struggled with the word. "It hurts."

"Love doesn't hurt. People do." Mike compassionately corrected me. "I could never hurt my darling little bat. I don't understand how anyone could."

Mike eased me to lean forward, palms flat on the headboard and slightly bent at the waist. He covered my hands with his, rubbing his thumbs over mine. He touched down the length of my arms towards my shoulders and then down my spine.

"You're safe. And, you're beautiful." he coo'd, etching his endearments in lovely cursive over my skin. "Take my word for it, Pete. I'm perfectly sane."

I craned my face back to kiss him and Mike met me halfway.

"Understand?" Mike hinted against my lips.

One hand dipped down between our bodies. Mike pulled the plug out, and took himself in hand. He aligned himself with my entrance. I didn't tense up when I felt him pressing against me, and slipping in. But, my hands trembled on the headboard.

"Let me in." He pleaded, and it had nothing to do with physically being inside me.

Buried to the hilt, we were as physically close as we could be to one another. Mike raked his fingers up my body to my chest, making me shiver. Lax and purposeful, he kissed from one end of my shoulder to my neck.

"I want to be closer to you." He lightly teased at my nipples, starting a gentle thrust. "No more walls."

His piercing grazed me from within, rubbing back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves Mike played with earlier. I panted under my breath, concentrating on the sensation. I was so wet and warmed up while he moved inside me. My body went submissively limp as Mike moved his hips with long, slow strokes.

He was mindful to how I responded, listening and looking for cues that I was enjoying myself. I arched my waist back, trying to get him closer to me. Mike obliged, moving against me with shorter precise pumps of his thin hips.

He rubbed my nipples, breathed sweet nothings outside my ear. I moaned, it was a low sound. Mike echoed the sound a pitch higher, rolling off his tongue with a purr.

"Does that feel good, baby bat?" Mike nuzzled my hair, beginning to roll and grind his hips as I moved with him, working together to create friction. "This what you want?"

"H-Harder." I moaned. "Stay in close to me."

My head tipped forward, hanging as my body moved each time his pelvis hit mine. It wasn't rough. Mike was an enthusiastic, but gentle, lover.

He was already paying so much attention to me, I felt like a fish in a bowl. I bit back this unyielding urge to be vocal. He was pushing it out of me. I was drowning in this newfound pleasure he introduced me to, it felt special.

My resolve to stay quieter dissolved. I began to cry out urgently when Mike's movements shifted just slightly to one side and he began hitting me just right.

"Mike! Like that!" I begged him, amazed this was even happening. "Please don't stop, stay right there."

"Right here?" He pressed in as close as he could and made sharp, calculated thrusts where I needed him.

"Oh God, Yes!"

The tops of Mike's thighs hitting the back of mine made quick, steady slaps. Skin against skin. Mike panted behind me, following me down the same path towards climax.

"Pete..." His voice dripped lust, syrupy and sweet. "Cum with me, baby bat."


"…do your parents know you're gay?" I asked Mike that night.

I had asked him before if I should redress and leave before his parents came home to see he had wined and dined another boy for Valentine's Day.

I didn't want to go.

"It was never a secret. Mom doesn't care. My biological dad didn't like it…he left when I was a kid because Mom wanted me to be myself, and he wanted to 'fix' me. She wouldn't let him."

"…that's some rough shit, Mike."

"Mom loves me. My step dad's a dork but he's been good to me, too."

Mike turned the question around on me.

"I didn't come out to my parents. My dad never paid attention to me. I'm not sure if Mom's even given it any thought."

"Would she accept you?"

"Yeah. She doesn't have any hang ups like that. Not that I'm aware of."

Mom was cool with most everybody, so long as they were decent kind people. She didn't care where you came from, or who you loved. Character was everything. The trivial details were just that: trivial.

"Then you should come out." Mike suggested.

"I've lived separate lives from Mom for years now…I feel like it'd be random to just come out now when I'm not exactly hiding it. Wouldn't change anything."

"My mother is my rock. I can't imagine living at such a distance."

Mike tapped my bottom lip with one finger, thoughtfully.

"She knows about us."

"You told her?"

"Didn't have to."

Suspecting maybe she heard something through the floorboards, I blushed guiltily.

"...did...did she hear us?"

"Mother doesn't eavesdrop. She respects my space and privacy. I've liked you for a long time, remember? She's known."

He felt my hot cheek. Mike's face glittered with fondness.

"We bury our friends and loved ones, to one day join them in the soil. We grieve, we weep. In their memory, we toil..." he recited. "We'll meet again, as daisies. Greet the sun we took for granted. Sprouting from the Earth, where we were all first planted."

"...that's my poem. Where did you-"

"A boy read it to me...he read it to everyone."

The elementary school poetry contest...I won it with that poem.

"A shy red-haired boy...wearing a shirt from the GAP that I'm sure his mother bought for him. He was a tiny bit nasally, but he grew out of it." Mike trailed down the bridge of my nose. "He had such a beautiful way with words. Thought it was a shame I'd never heard him speak before...I went home and told Mother about him."

"You did?"

"I did. She said I smiled the entire time. That's when she knew."

Mike got so quiet.

"I fell for the sweetest boy." He said. "What made you try to change?"

"...I missed the bus that day."


"I missed the bus that day...walked home and got beat up in an alley the worst I'd ever been that year."

My eyes were watery, but I wasn't crying. Mike watched them well up.

"That's where I met Michael, he saved me...from that day on, he protected me."

"...did he, though?"

"You were right before- He taught me to be guarded. I wouldn't have made it on my own...that sweet kid you met had to go."

"He didn't go. He hid."

We were moving closer together. He tangled me up in his bedspread, trapping me there with no intentions of letting me go. I could die here and drift away whole.

"Did you think no one would find you?" Mike whispered.


I still believe in your eyes.
I just don't care what you've done in your life.
Baby, I'll always be here by your side.
Don't leave me waiting too long, please come by.

I still believe in your eyes.
There is no choice, I belong to your life.
Because, I will live to love you someday.
You'll be my baby, and we'll fly away.

And, I'll fly with you.

Mike was in the shower when I woke up. Naked and cozy, I roused to music. He kept his speaker moderately low in the bathroom. I got up to brush my teeth.

"Have you come to join me?" Mike asked when he heard the faucet turn on.

"uh-uh." I mumbled with a mouth full of toothpaste.

Mike feigned offense.

"And, why not?"

In the mirror, my eyes dipped to my neck.

"Came to brush my teeth." I rinsed my mouth out.

"It's lonely in here~"

I gave my reflection a long hard look.

"Good thing showers don't take very long, do they?"

"You caught me. I'm just about done in here."

Mike shut off the shower.

"Do pancakes sound good, baby bat?" Water splattered on the tub floor when Mike wrung out his hair. "I'm going to make some."

The curtain slid open. Mike wrapped a towel around his hips. He took a second one, leaning down and wrapping his hair in it to keep from dripping green dye on the floor.

"I'll eat pancakes." I snickered at Mike.

"...what's so funny?"

He saw himself in the mirror.

"Oh, you." he sighed.

"That look suits you-AH!"

My right ass cheek stung.

"Shower's all yours." Mike spanked me, content with his payback. "Come up for Breakfast when you're done."

"Excuse you." I nursed the afflicted area.

"It was long overdue. Bratty bat."

Mike winked and went on his way.

I was free to go through Mike's drawers after I showered and find something to cover up with. I took the pajamas he gave me my first night here-the black and gray checkered bottoms with its skull shirt. They were comfortable.

In the kitchen, Lenore and Poe sat together by a window, enjoying some sunlight and a breeze as it blew in. The screen ensured bugs couldn't get in, and birds couldn't get out. There was a cup of chopped fruit they picked at.

"Fruit cup, huh?" I rubbed one of their wings. "Nice."

"Here's ours." Mike put a bowl on the table between two plates of pancakes.

One had a glass of orange juice, the other had a mug of coffee.

I pierced a chunk of melon with the prongs of my fork and caught Mike staring. He was hemming and hawing on something.


"I don't know how to tell you this. But, Stan called while you were asleep."

It pleased him for whatever reason. Why was he pleased? This is weird. My ex calls and he's fighting back a smile.

"...the reason he called, was?"

"He wanted to make sure you were here with me, this morning. Told him you were sleeping like a baby."

"That's all he wanted?"

"And a picture to prove it. I covered you up and took it from behind. He only got your shoulders and the back of your head."

Having my picture secretly taken wasn't great, but Mike gave me the courtesy of keeping it discreet and tasteful.

"Stan was worried you'd spend the night alone. He thanked me for keeping you." Mike cut in to his pancakes. "It was touching."

"It doesn't bother you that he meddled in your business?"

"Ours." Mike suavely interjected. "You're a person, Pete. Not a possession. And, no. I'm not bothered."

I've never seen Mike mad. Now would have been the appropriate time. But, no. He discussed my ex at the breakfast table post-Valentine's Day.

"He said he wasn't good to you your last Valentine's Day. That took some accountability to admit. He didn't have to tell me."

"He has a guilty conscience."

"For someone who allegedly doesn't love you, he worries an awful lot."

My coffee already had cream and sugar in it. I picked the mug up as is, getting a sip of Mike's morning treat for me. He didn't even drink coffee. He only learned how to make it for me.

"He might be lost, but he's sincere. That man does love you, baby bat." Mike had no doubts. "But, sometimes love isn't enough."

"Think he'll figure it out?"

"He said it himself."


"You have to be there for the people you love." Mike repeated on behalf of Stan. "The word he used was 'consistent'."


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