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, guys! Welcome back! I have to say, I'm super impressed by my readers on The Archive of Our Own site who respond consistently with the updates. Rock on, guys. Seriously.

You're all my baby bats, now. Muah ha ha! *Laughs maniacally and showers you all with love* (LOL Yes, Yes. I'm an awkward dork, I know. Still love y'all.)

***Also, do yourselves a favor and google "baby bat eating a banana". They kind of look like tiny black puppies and are genuinely the cutest fucking things, ever.***

Anyways, thanks for reading! Much love and I can't wait to hear from you!


"The dance was crazy on Friday, Man."

"Hell yeah, it was. Girls at this school are so fucking easy."

"Get your dick wet?"

"You know it."

Before Mr. Stuart came in, Clyde and Craig were going back and forth about the coochie crusade. What was it about straight dudes that propelled them to do that? If Clyde weren't in my first period class, perhaps I'd have a fighting chance to tolerate mornings.

Too much coochie, not enough coffee.

I couldn't listen to him go on about grabbing tit and pounding pussy. It wasn't even a matter of being gay. He, as a person, disgusted me on multiple levels. It could've been literally any possible conversation topic and I would have despised it. Assuming my usual position in the morning, I put my head down.

Resting on my left cheek, I watched Mike organize his binder next to me. He shuffled papers around, tucking them away where they belonged and sorting out whatever notes he didn't need anymore. Sliding my eyes up, I looked at the black bat wing dangling from his ear. It suited him, in a tacky way.

"I heard Lola and Bebe were all over Stan." Craig said.

"My bro was killin' it out there." Clyde confirmed without missing a beat.


"You don't know the half of it."

They were both clueless. Could today be over? Please? It was only Monday. Fuck me.

Mike piled up his scrap papers, appearing to be focused. I didn't think he was paying any attention to Craig and Clyde's conversation until he paused in disbelief at the next thing to come out of Clyde's mouth.

"After the dance Stan and I hit up the Motel 6 with them. It was wild, what a night."

"No way...Are you for real?"

"Like I said, they're easy. Total sluts."

I felt myself go cold from head to toe. I forgot how to breathe for a second, shutting down. Was this happening? I had to be dreaming. I made out with Mike Mckowski, and Stan slept with a girl. It was too crazy to be real.

Mike discreetly laid his hand on my leg under the desk, sensing my change in energy. There was nothing he could say aloud to address it in the presence of our peers.

The bell rang, Mr. Stuart waltzing in with a projector. He pulled down the white screen, announcing to much of the class's joy, that we'd be watching a movie adaptation of the last novel we finished.

"Let's ease in to Monday, kids." He told us. "I know we're all a little tired from the holiday weekend."

The movie was meant to be a break for everyone. So, Mr. Stuart didn't care about those of us who chose to sleep or text through it. I never lifted my head off my desk. Mike never took his hand off my leg.


I didn't know which one of those hussies Stan fucked, I didn't want to know. I wanted to know why. I didn't go to Lunch in fear of what I'd do if I saw him.

My mind raced a mile a minute the whole day. Looks were deceiving because I looked like my apathetic self, stalking around. Anger and hurt were bubbling in my stomach, fighting for dominance.

I couldn't give in to either emotion. Unfortunately for someone else, they couldn't hold back. Last bell rung, students filing out to their lockers, and there was an eruption in the hallways.

"What is your problem!? You're with Bebe, now?" Wendy was red in the face, fuming.

"I'm not with Bebe!" Helplessly, Stan stood there, starring in the scene unfolding.

Stan, he was great at being the center of attention, wasn't he? He should audition for the Kardashians, or something. Get paid for being a big, useless ass. It was his area of expertise.

"Wendy...could we talk about this in private?"

"In PRIVATE? Everyone knows, Stan!"

"Wendy, please! I really need you to lower your voice-"

"FUCK YOU! You broke up with me out of nowhere! Then, a week later, you're messing around with the biggest slut in school?"

People nosily lingered to watch the football captain get chewed out. Drama, high schoolers itched for it. These little dumb twats ate it up like Percocet.

"Oh, this just isn't working out." Wendy mocked him. "Bullshit, Stan! Heidi was right! You're just a sorry excuse for a pig!"

"Bebe isn't why I broke up with you!" Stan insisted, eyes getting wide when he noticed me. "We aren't-I swear we aren't-"

He went white as a ghost. He panicked.

"I don't know why I ever believe a word that comes out of your damn mouth, Stan! You're pathetic, inconsiderate and only care about yourself!"

Wendy voiced my exact thoughts. Little Miss honor roll prep queen, of all people. There had to be a glitch in the matrix.

"You're an asshole! You're an asshole and I can't fucking stand you!"

There was that glitch, again.

All the commotion attracted the attention of teachers in nearby classrooms. Wedging their way through the crowd, they carefully diffused the situation. They all had empathetic eyes on Wendy who trembled with frustration, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks in embarrassment.

I didn't hate her any more than I hated any other of the hundreds of students in school. I never gave a damn how she felt in the past because I wanted Stan all to myself. I would've been heartless to not feel bad for her right now, though. She was humiliated.

Better her than me.

A female teacher who obviously cared a lot for her, led Wendy back to her class to speak with her in private. Stan refused to go with a male teacher and talk about what happened. He wanted out of the situation and left. He couldn't face me, he went in the opposite direction.

With nothing else to see, most people started filing out, whispering and gossiping amongst each other. Off in a corner, Michael and Henrietta gave me their ridiculing stares. Michael had the audacity to smirk, relishing in the most recent display of Stan's shortcomings.

Two seconds in those dark brown eyes and I saw his sadistic satisfaction. He knew how bad Stan's stunt betrayed me. He liked it far too much.

Michael felt that I deserved that knife in my back. It was his twisted conception of Karma. Turning his back on me to show that I was on my own today, he left without uttering a single word to me.

Mike was across the hallway with his main clique members: Vlad, Ryan, Larry, Annie and "Bloodrayne". Mike's red stare was all knowing and pitying. He was the only one left in the vicinity who knew I was a mess inside, but I felt like they could all see through me.

I couldn't handle it.

Turning the corner and going down the adjacent hallway, I hauled ass as fast as I could without literally running. I didn't know where I was going, it just had to be where no one could see me. There was a facility bathroom. I took cover there.

It was one of those that only accommodated one person at a time. The custodians took good care of the bathrooms the adults used. The little room smelled like bleach and hand soap.

Locking the door, I slid down to the floor. The walls felt like they were closing in on me. The hurt I felt was so intense.

Stan finally did it. He made me cry. In the worst possible place.

It didn't make any sense. He broke up with Wendy to make me happy...then he turns around and does that? Him being with Wendy at all killed me, how could he sleep with Bebe?

Stan threw me out of the frying pan and in to the fire. No explanation. No apology. No effort. Nothing.

Sobbing silently to myself, I panicked slightly. After school activities ended in less than an hour. I couldn't stay there, forever. I needed to pull myself together if I was going to catch the late bus home with my dignity.

It didn't seem feasible to me, at the moment. The panic escalated when I heard a teacher walking the halls, her heels clicked the tiles with steady, even steps. I didn't want to give up my hiding spot. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to be dragged to the school counselor, either.

As they got closer, there were additional footsteps accompanying the heels. Softer footsteps. Converse shoes and boots.

"We're going to the mall, Mike. Meet up with us later, if you can." That was Annie.

"You sure you can't come?" That was Vlad.

My silent sobbing lightened the slightest bit at the sound of Mike's voice. His voice was naturally soft and soothing.

"I have something important that needs checking up on."

Did he know I was in here? I heard him lean his weight on a locker across the way. He didn't move.

"Where are you?" I got via message.

My hiding spot was compromised by the cheery notification sound Facebook Messenger made. There was a pause then Mike leaned off the lockers. Two steps approached me. Pulling out my phone, I scrambled to mute it but Mike beat me to the draw.

"?" He sent this time.

The notification sound went off, again. I could feel his eyes on the door. Certain of where I was, Mike followed the sound.

"Pete." Mike tapped his fingernails on the wooden door.

I didn't respond, bringing the back of my arm up to my face to wipe away tears.

"Pete...I know you're in there."

"Yeah, and?" I snapped because there wasn't any other way I could smother out the weepy sound of my voice.

"You can come out, now."

I was a sniveling mess. No one could see me like this. All crumbled up like an emo kid whose mom took away their iPod.

"I don't want to."

"Can I come in then?" Mike bargained, patiently.

I rested my forehead and hand on the door wantonly, wishing I could feel him through it. He was so close. He was right there.

"Mike, I really need you to leave me alone right now."

"Not while you're hurting, baby bat."

"I'm not your baby bat, right now."

"Yes, you are."

The metallic sound of a zipper faintly came through the door. Mike opened up his bag and rifled through his binder. A piece of stock paper about the size of an index card slid under the door.

"That's for you."

...Mike could draw?

There was a beautifully drawn black bat on the stock card. It had black eyes with green irises. The bottom of its wings faded in to a red ombre. In the background there were diamond-shaped stars and a full moon.

From the shading and outline, it looked like Mike used different sharpie tips or some other type of fancy marker. He signed the bottom corner with an artfully drawn gothic M. He was talented. The calligraphy looked like it could've come straight off a Ouija board.

"When did you draw this?"

"Art class, today." He answered me. "You've been in my thoughts all day...I was worried when I didn't see you at Lunch."

"I went to the library. I wasn't hungry, anyways."

Holding the drawing carefully, I inspected Mike's token of affection. Getting up off the floor, I pulled myself together the best that I could. I couldn't wipe the devastation off my face.

My eyes were wet when I stepped out, but tears weren't spilling anymore. Mike hugged me close for a moment, only pulling away far enough to look me in the face.

"He wasn't good for you." Mike's heavily lined eyes were brimming with condolence. "That's not your fault."


It was a rough day, to say the least. Stomach to the sheets and laid out shirtless on Mike's bed, per his instruction, I rested my head down on my folded arms. Straddling me, he rubbed his hands up my back.

Him sitting on my lower back bore comforting weight down on me. It kept me rooted to the moment. He occupied all my senses, shielding them from the toxicity I'd fallen victim to that day.

"Relax, baby bat. Don't worry about anything."

Massaging me, he made relaxed smooth motions up to my shoulders. Moving back down, he squeezed lightly at my sides. Mike's palms were lightly coated with lotion providing a smooth glide and filling the air with his signature mysterious rose fragrance.

I was going to smell like Bat and Body Works, but fuck it.

He hummed in that effeminate, affectionate way of his while he worked. His hands were magical. I was becoming a gelatinous puddle underneath him. This was, without debate, better than any sex I'd ever had.

How did I ever think Stan was comforting? He wasn't anything like this. In hindsight, he was better than Michael. I gravitated towards the lesser of two evils. He was warmer. Not any less selfish, however.

"Oh, that feels good..." I groaned under Mike's nurturing touch.

With the tips of his manicured nails, he gently raked across my skin. Pleasurable goosebumps surfaced where he caressed. Then there were the kisses...holy fuck.

He pressed buttery kisses between my shoulder blades, making his way to the junction of my neck. He grazed me with his teeth, suckling for a moment before peppering me with more pecks of his soft lips. I shivered when he honed in on the sensitive nape of my neck.

Could I stay here, forever?

"Hm~ You're so receptive to touch." Mike practically purred. "I love it."

He blindsided me pretty good when he licked the shell of my ear with the very tip of his tongue, taking the cartilage between his front teeth. I gasped, from the sensual nip.

"A-Ah-" the startled sound died off in a steamy sigh when he kissed the afflicted area. "Fuck...easy there, Dracula."

"Couldn't help myself, you're such a treat." He apologized with a teasing tone. "Besides, you liked it."

I was the treat? He was the treat. Every point of contact, I was reacting to him. Parts of me he wasn't touching reacted to him...


"Yes, baby bat?"

"Could you scoot up?"

Interest peaked, Mike feigned ignorance.

"Mm, why?"

"I need to adjust." Feeling my face get warm, I swallowed dryly. "I have a bit of a problem."

Easing himself up straight, Mike pulled off his shirt. His bare chest came down along my back, melding to the shape of my body. Oh, that was not helping. Not at all.

"There's an easy solution to that..." Sultry and smooth, the words rolled off Mike's tongue. "I could take care of it."

The enticing bit of information sent my heart up in to my throat. He hadn't offered last time. Not that I was disappointed. But...with the skin-on-skin contact I was tempted, this time.

"You don't have to do that." Doing what I felt was the right thing, I declined.

"What if I told you I want to?"

Mike dismounted me, giving me my cue to roll over.

Between my legs, he resettled himself. His hands were at my waistband, taking his time working the button and zipper open. He pulled my jeans down my hips a couple of inches.

I was in Mike McKowski's bed about to get my rocks off. Wherever Michael was, he probably had a stronger than usual urge to burn down the nearest Hot Topic, without any idea as to why.

"Truth be told, I've wanted to do this for a long time." Mike plucked his fake fangs off with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm going to enjoy this more than you."

Curling his fingers around me, he dragged the smooth barbell of his tongue ring up the underside of my shaft. The sound that came out of me...well, it was me. Didn't sound like it.


On the rare occasion Stan serviced me, it was nice. With Mike's jewelry in play, it upped the game. My erection twitched and I held my breath in anticipation, feeling Mike make his way up to the tip.

He took it between his lips, just letting me feel them as he stroked me. Slowly, he took his hand away and sunk his mouth down. I was mesmerized at the sight of him.

From under his bangs he smoldered me with lustful eyes. His hair fell over one lithe shoulder, draped along the left side of his neck. I just noticed how long his neck slender and elegant.

All of him was slender and elegant. The black denim of his tight jeans rested low on his narrow hips. Those hips were perched up, starting the arch in his back. He looked amazing. Had Mike always been this hot?

Between mouthfuls of my cock, he groaned pleasurably, sending light vibrations over it. Grabbing at the sheets, I let my head fall back in rapture. My breathing got shallow, coming to a screeching halt when suddenly the tight, wet heat of Mike's throat engulfed all of me.

"M-Mike! A-Ah..."

My breath hitched and my hips shot up, instinctively. Stan's gag reflex was horrible so he always kept my hips pinned. Mike gagged slightly, but that didn't stop him. He kept sucking, groping at my sides whilst I squirmed under his mouth.

"I'm getting close." I tried to warn him, propping myself back up with my elbows to look at him. "Fuck...fuck! Mike!"

I was attempting to give Mike the opportunity to pull off, because that's what I was used to. He glanced up and carried on like he didn't hear me. He heard me loud and clear.

My thighs were tensing, my chest was shuddering. My breath came out in short, labored puffs. The inevitable was near.

I couldn't hold back much longer. Mike's relentless mouth pushed me to the edge, driving me towards climax. There was a punctuated gasp and Mike willingly accepted the proof of my satisfaction.

"Oh, God..."

Mike released my satisfied member with a sly gleam. With my cum still in his mouth, he swallowed without so much as a second thought. My arms gave out on me and I was completely flat on my back, again.

"Still think you enjoyed that more than I did?" I asked, rhetorically, trying to catch my breath.

Grabbing the sides of my jeans, Mike pulled them back up for me. He tucked me away, fastened everything up, pecking the skin above my waistband.

"Mhm." He chirped. "I did."


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