5 naked guys part II

[formerdinosaur]

"I'll just go into the bathroom to change!" Butters says, skipping there, bag in hand. Cartman sighs contentedly and folds his arms behind his head.

"Hey, Kahl," he says.

"What?"

Cartman smirks. "You totally sucked my balls. Heh. It was killer."

"Thank you, Cartman," Kyle says, batting his eyelashes. "I'm so glad you enjoyed it."

"Goddammit, Kahl! Don't ruin this for me!"

Stan and Kyle both laugh, and Kenny does, too, tackling them down to the mattress. For a blissful moment they're a disorganized, aimless pile of limbs and warm skin, and Kenny even likes it when Cartman looms over them, his hand skimming over their shoulders like he's trying to pick a lobster from a restaurant tank.

"I'm seriously though, Kyle," Cartman says, though his hand is resting on Stan's shoulder. "I could make you come in record time. No doubt."

"No doubt," Kyle says, mimicking Cartman's voice. He laughs, and Stan does, too, but it sounds a little forced, or worried. Kenny shifts his hips, dragging his cock along the crack of Stan's ass, and he smiles against the back of Stan's neck when he gasps.

The bathroom door opens, and Cartman looks first, then Kenny, Stan, and finally Kyle, who lifts his head sleepily. Butters is standing in the doorway, hesitating shyly, his knees pressed together. He's wearing a little white nightie, a long, blond wig with green hair bows, and pink slippers with bunny ears.

"Holy -" Stan says.

"Fuck," Kenny finishes for him.

"Marjorine?" Kyle says, and it's like he's asking if he's remembering the name right, as if any of them could have forgotten. Marjorine's short time in South Park impacted a lot of the boys in their class in a big way, or maybe Kenny is just projecting. He beat off to the thought of Butters in this outfit for a long time, during his most formative years. Now, looking at him, remembering how hot he looked as a girl, he's not sure why he ever stopped.

"Shit, yeah," Cartman says, sounding proud. He holds out his hand. "C'mere, Butters. Come show my friends a good time."

"Cartman!" Kyle says, kicking him.

"What?" Cartman glowers at him. "That's his dream come true, asshole!"

"It kinda is," Butters says, walking to the bed slowly, on tip toes. Kenny is throbbing again, rubbing himself on Stan almost unintentionally. Stan whines under his breath and presses back, but his eyes are locked on Butters, who looks so delicate in this getup, so small.

"What's your dream come true?" Kenny asks, because he needs to hear Butters say it.

"Um," Butters says. He clambers onto the bed and hurries into Cartman's arms, burrowing against his bulk. "To, um, have Eric tell me what to do to you guys. What to let you do."

"That's right," Cartman says, throaty and corny but somehow still hot, maybe just because of the way he looks with Butters pressed against him, the effect amplified by a hundred with Butters wearing these clothes, such a fragile little thing in the arms of someone so reckless. Kenny used to get upset, thinking about it, before he realized that they both get off on it for the same reason that it disturbed him, because it shouldn't work this well. Kenny had to make himself remember Cartman's tea parties, when Cartman was actually, secretly gentle, even if he was feeding his dolls a script about how great he was.

"So what should I do?" Butters asks Cartman, arching like a girl, the curve of his spine obscenely pretty, accented by the delicate, almost translucent fabric of the nightie.

"Go suck Stan's dick," Cartman says. "Show them how it's done."

Butters bites his lip, kisses Cartman once, and crawls forward to do as he asked. Kenny and Kyle sort of pull Stan open for him, looking at each other in surprise when they have, because neither of them intended to do that. Stan doesn't fight it, just breathes hard and looks down his chest as Butters pins his hips to the mattress.

"You can fuck my mouth if you want," Butters says, sweetly, and he sets to work without hesitation, circling the tip of Stan's cock just once before swallowing him up. Stan moans and bucks, definitely without meaning to, but Butters takes it well, guiding his hips back down to the bed. Kenny's mouth hangs open as he watches Butters moan and drool just for the chance to suck a dick, and he realizes he wants this, too. He wants to be used, fucked, bossed around.

"Well, Stan?" Cartman says, rubbing Butters' ass idly while he works, as if to praise him. "Pretty good, huh? Better than Kyle's sandy vagina?"

"Fuck off," Kyle mutters unenthusiastically. He's watching Stan's face, rubbing his chest while he writhes and moans, fucking Butters' mouth in gentlemanly little twitches of his hips now.

"Kyle," Stan moans, knocking his forehead against Kyle's.

"Yeah, dude?"

"Kiss me a little," Stan says, sounding very young, reminding Kenny where he is and why this is happening, what's at stake. He watches them kiss, tugging on one of Butters' pigtails until he comes up for air.

"Don't make him come yet," Kenny says when Butters looks up at him curiously, licking his lips, his pigtail still clutched Kenny's hand. "You should ride him, like you rode me."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," Butters says. He slumps back against Cartman, who is watching Stan and Kyle kiss, surely plotting something.

"Damn, dude," Kenny says, running the tip of one finger up the length of Stan's cock, which is still wet from Butters' mouth. Stan gasps and pulls free from Kyle, turning to give Kenny a bleary look. "You're so hard," Kenny says. "Do you want to, um. Do you want to last?"

"I don't know," Stan says, his voice breaking. He nods. "Yeah, I do."

"'Cause I have this thing."

"Kenny," Kyle says, a protective hand sliding across Stan's chest.

"Sweet, you brought accessories?" Cartman says, grinning. "What are we talking here, a cock ring? Can I put one on Kyle, too?"

"Why would you ask Kenny that and not me?" Kyle asks, glaring at Cartman. "And I thought you said you could make me, um. In record time. How are you going to prove that if I'm wearing - something?"

They all stare at Kyle for a moment, aghast. Butters breaks the awkward silence by grabbing for the lube, humming to himself as he slicks Stan.

"So anyway," Kenny says, allowing Kyle to continue frowning questioningly at Cartman, who is again speechless. "Do you want to try this ring?" he asks, rubbing Stan's stomach. "It hurts a little, but, I mean. Personally I like it when stuff hurts a little." He gets the feeling that Stan would, too, is what he's trying to say. Stan stares at him for a moment, and Kenny almost feels guilty, because he's so overwhelmed, all flushed and breathless, his cock slicked but otherwise unattended.

"You'd better not hurt him," Kyle says, clutching Stan's shoulder.

"No, it's okay," Stan says. He's still got his eyes locked on Kenny's. "I mean, if it hurts too bad, I'll just take it off. Right?"

"Right," Kenny says. He kisses Stan's forehead and slides off the bed. "I'll just get that for you, then." His own cock is aching as he walks across the room, but he doesn't mind, sort of likes that feeling, and he doesn't want to come until Stan is inside him and fucking him with brutal desperation, which is the whole point of the cock ring.

"Well, alright, Kahl," Cartman says when Kenny returns to the bed, everyone except Cartman watching as Kenny fits the ring onto Stan, his cock blushing a darker red once it's locked in place. "Let's make this little wager worthwhile. I bet I could make you come just from getting fucked."

"Hmm," Kyle says, pretending to consider this. "What was Butters saying earlier, something about how you have to trust somebody in order to enjoy that? Yeah, I'm gonna go with 'hell no.'"

"Oh, Jesus, Kyle just let him do it," Stan says, panting and staring down at Butters as he lowers himself onto Stan's cock. "I mean - ah, Butters, fuck - I - I mean, if you want him to. And it's okay if you do." He looks at Kyle and smiles shakily. "It's okay, dude, really. I know you trust him, I mean, ah - enough not to hurt you. We all trust each other. That's the whole point."

Stan sits up and wraps Butters into his arms, hugging him against his chest. He takes one of Butters' pig tails and brings it to his lips, kissing the end of it. Butters smiles and moans happily, pressing his face to Stan's.

"How does he feel?" Kyle asks jealously, already moving closer to Cartman, who is watching Kyle with a predatory smile, pretty obviously trying to contain triumphant laughter.

"Really good," Stan says. He closes his eyes and buries his face against Butters' nightie, where his tits would be if he had them. Kenny isn't sure if he's just trying to give Kyle some leeway of if he's actually appreciating this, but he's touching Butters with the appropriate amount of reverence, his hands sliding up under the nightie and across Butters' back.

"You like that ring?" Kenny asks, his fingers dancing down over Stan's spine.

"Uh-huh," Stan says. He has his eyes closed now, and Butters is moving on him slowly, letting him get used to the feeling. "Makes everything, unh, yeah. Really fucking intense."

Kyle is outright scowling now, and when he grabs the lube Cartman actually rubs his hands together with delight.

"Get on your hands and knees," Cartman says, grabbing a handful of Kyle's hair and tipping his head back, grinning down into his face. Kyle narrows his eyes.

"You're so full of shit," he says. "If you can't make me come in three minutes, then - then I'm switching over to Kenny."

"Bitch, whatever," Cartman says. He lets go of Kyle's hair and begins arranging him into position, pointing him toward the headboard. "Just hold on to something, 'cause the train's about to pull the fuck in."

"Holy shit, Cartman," Stan says, laughing. He looks over and watches as Kyle does as Cartman asked, putting both hands around the headboard and presenting himself, Stan's come still slicked on the insides of his thighs. Kyle is trembling a little as Cartman lines himself up, his palm squeaking as he rubs the lube over his dick, and Kenny is going to pet the small of Kyle's back to calm him down, but Stan beats him to it.

"Lucky for you I just unloaded," Cartman says, rubbing his thumb over Kyle's hole. Kyle is clenching with every swipe of Cartman's thumb, his knees spreading a little. "So I should last long enough to make you come at least twice, no cock ring necessary. Not that they make one big enough for my dick." Cartman is smirking, gloating, but he's also stalling. He's probably wanted this longer and more than any amount of ball sucking.

"Don't worry, Kyle," Butters says, riding Stan a little harder as Cartman gets closer to penetrating Kyle. "He's - ohh. He's real good at this."

"I'm not worried," Kyle says. He's blushing when he turns to look back over his shoulder. "Hurry up."

"Bitch is begging for it," Cartman says, teasing his cockhead over Kyle's hole. "Even after getting dick from Mr. Quarterback."

"Cartman, can you be gracious for like five seconds?" Kenny says. "Everybody's giving you a lot of credit here."

"Oh, I'll be gracious," Cartman says, still just circling Kyle's opening, watching him tremble and arch. "I'll fuck you next, Kenny, and Stan, too."

"Nuh, I want Kyle to do me," Stan says. "Before anyone else." His head is tipping back as he starts to lose his focus, Butters riding him harder. Without that ring he would have blown by now, and Kenny knows he's feeling it, that ache in his balls, the impossible swelling in his dick.

"And I want Stan to do me first," Kenny says, smiling when this manages to capture Stan's attention, his eyes slitting open when he looks over at Kenny.

"Yeah," Stan says, moaning, nodding. "God, I'm gonna come so hard. Oh, fuck, this thing - it's so - Kenny." He sort of whimpers Kenny's name out, and maybe it's unfair to Butters, but Butters is losing his focus, too, jerking himself with the end of the nightie wrapped around his dick.

"You need it off?" Kenny asks, moving closer to Stan, wrapping an arm around him. Stan sobs and shakes his head.

"Not yet," he says. "Not until I'm in you. Wanna - put this in you, Kenny, God, I need, need to come so bad, ah, Kenny -"

"Shh, okay, help me with this first." Kenny finds Stan's hand and wraps it around Butters' cock. On the other side of the bed, Kyle sucks in his breath, and they all go still, looking over to watch Cartman start to sink into him.

"That's a good little slut, open up for me, yeah," Cartman says. He's stroking Kyle's back, going slow, like they all knew he would. Savoring it, but his hands are shaking a little, Kenny can see it. Stan moans as he watches Cartman sink into Kyle, who has gone quiet, his hands tight around the headboard and his head hanging between his arms.

"Tell me you're okay," Stan says, panting. "Kyle?"

"I'm okay," Kyle says. He lifts his head and peeks at Stan from over his shoulder. "Fuck - Cuh- Cartman." His eyes flutter shut again as Cartman sinks a bit more, one hand gripping Kyle's hip, the other one still stroking him like he's a well behaved pet.

"That's right, Kahl," Cartman says. "Say my fucking name." His voice is beleaguered only by the slightest shake; he seems calmer than Kenny has ever seen him, watching himself disappear into Kyle's softened, welcoming body.

"Jesus Christ," Kyle says, and he drops down to the mattress, his shaking arms failing him. He huddles against the blankets, ass still lifted, and he whimpers as Cartman's balls come to rest against his haunches.

"Goddamn, Kahl," Cartman says. He reaches down to tug Kyle's thighs apart more widely, and Kyle whines, whatever tension was left in his shoulders draining out of him. He's limp in Cartman's grip, eyes closed, ass open. Trusting.

"Oh," Butters says softly, and he's touching himself again, moving Stan's hand on him, the end of the nightie still twisted around his dick. Kenny tucks himself around Butters back and reaches down to feel the cock ring, rubbing his thumb around Butters' tender entrance in the meantime. Butters sort of whinnies, kneels up and slams himself back down onto Stan, both of them shouting as Butters sprays Stan's chest with come.

"Good girl," Stan praises, pushing his hands up under the nightie, one in front and one in back, and when they kiss Cartman actually turns to watch. Butters is sighing and soft against Stan, his arms looped around Stan's neck. Cartman turns back to Kyle, his mouth twitching into something between a grimace and a grin. He's arranging himself, both hands on Kyle's hips now, looking for something. When he finds it, Kyle gasps, and Cartman smiles.

"I told you to hold on to something, Jew," Cartman says. "Better grab those blankets. You ready for this?"

"Fuck me, yeah," Kyle says, wiggling under Cartman, pressing back. "Right - right there. Please, Cartman."

It changes the weight of the air, the way he says those last two words, and Cartman growls with pleasure, pulling back like he's about to slam the hammer down on one of those carnival games, waiting to hear the bell at the top clang. Stan and Butters have gone quiet, holding on to each other. Kenny puts his chin on Butters' shoulder and toys with the lace strap that's fallen down around his arm.

"Ask me again," Cartman says, almost all the way out now, the tip of his cock holding Kyle open. "C'mon, Kahl. Beg harder."

"Please," Kyle says, his hands curling around the blankets. "Please, please, Cartman, I want it, ah, God, I want it-"

Kenny thinks of when they were kids, how Cartman used to get so much pleasure out of bringing Kyle to this point and then withholding whatever he wanted, running off with it, laughing. Cartman is quiet now, concentrating, watching Kyle shudder and fall apart.

"Yeah," Cartman says, low and breathy, his eyes dark. He reaches up to hold the back of Kyle's neck. "Yeah, Kyle," he says, like Kyle has earned something from him, and then he gives him a hard thrust, grunting. Kyle screams and nods, snapping his hips back wildly.

"Ra - right there, yeah, there -"

"Mhmm, take it, fucking take it-"

They're both totally unleashed from then on, Kyle slamming back to meet Cartman's thrusts, and he's barely had Cartman in him for two minutes when he comes, sobbing, holding the blankets over his face. Cartman growls with satisfaction and keeps plowing him, drawing softer, higher pitched sounds from Kyle as he continues to pummel his prostate. Kyle's second orgasm spurts from him more weakly, and Kyle is liquid beneath Cartman now, except for the faintest, almost pathetic little snaps of his hips as he tries to get more of Cartman's dick in him, following it back every time Cartman pulls out.

"Hey," Kenny says, and Stan turns toward him slowly, looking vaguely confused in an adorable way. Kenny can only guess that the insane pressure in his cock has choked away most of his thought process. "Fuck me now?" Kenny says, rubbing one finger over Stan's bottom lip.

"But." Stan blinks and looks at Butters like he'd forgotten for a moment that Butters was there. He's pulled off of Stan's dick now, slumped against Stan's chest, and Kenny thinks they might have finally tired him out, his wig slightly crooked as he fights to keep his eyes open. "But, um. Kyle-"

"Kyle's okay. C'mon. C'mere. Put me over the side of the bed."

Kenny takes Butters from Stan, straightens his wig and settles him down on the bed, in a spot where he won't be in danger of being kicked by Cartman as he grows progressively unhinged. Cartman is pounding Kyle's ass and hissing curses, arching back to get his dick in as deeply as he can. Kyle is crying into the blankets, the last of his energy leaving him. He goes completely limp, and Kenny knows Stan won't be able to concentrate on fucking him, not yet, so he pushes Stan in their direction.

"You might ah - want to stay back," Cartman says when Stan crawls toward Kyle. "The - there's about to be, unh, a river of come flooding out of this ginger's fucked out ass."

Stan ignores Cartman and takes Kyle's hand. Kyle cracks his eyes open, squeezes Stan's fingers and moans.

"Want him to stop?" Stan asks, like he's ready to kick Cartman's ass. Cartman probably can't even hear him at this point, so close to coming now that his blubbery ass cheeks are trembling. Kenny spoons himself around Butters, breathing in the smell of the wig, which Butters has sprayed some kind of perfume into. Butters moans weakly and scoots back against him.

"Don't stop," Kyle says, looking at Stan but speaking to Cartman. "Don't - don't stop, just, fuhhh, come in me, and, and on my back, my ass, just, all over me, please."

Kyle must have been ready for Cartman to stop after all, because Kenny is pretty sure he knew saying that would tip Cartman over the edge. It works like a charm, and Cartman groans, staring down at his cock as he unloads into Kyle. He pulls out and pumps some onto Kyle's back, over the crack of his ass, and onto the backs of his knees, which, now that Kenny thinks about it, Cartman seems kind of oddly fixated on. Kyle is limp and lying on his stomach now, still holding Stan's hand. Kenny is afraid Stan will snatch Kyle away for more private making out, but he stays an arm length away, letting Kyle's fingers slide out of his grip when Cartman turns Kyle over and dribbles the last drops of his orgasm onto Kyle's stomach before sinking down to kiss him. Kyle loops one arm around Cartman's neck and kisses back, groping for Stan with his free hand. Stan takes Kyle's hand and kisses his fingers. Cartman kisses Kyle's mouth until he's spent, capable of nothing more than panting against Kyle's neck while Kyle strokes his hair, like Cartman is the well behaved pet now. Kyle grins at Stan.

"Still gonna fuck Kenny?" he asks. Stan nods and turns to look over his shoulder. "Oh, Jesus," Kyle says when Stan sits up, moving slowly, wincing a little. "You're still hard."

"It hurts," Stan says.

"Take it off, Kenny!" Kyle says, his hand going still in Cartman's hair. Cartman appears to be asleep on top of him, contented.

"No," Stan says when Kenny moves to do so. "No, I. I like it. Please, just." He takes a deep breath and lets it out carefully, as if he's afraid to disturb a precarious tower of pebbles that are stacked up between his ribs. "I want to know what it feels like. In you. Like this. When it hurts."

"Oh - okay," Kenny says. He looks at Kyle and realizes that he's asking for Kyle's permission. Kyle is just frowning, his hand still outstretched and open on the bed as Stan moves toward Kenny, inching his way over a little at a time. Butters sits up sleepily and stretches, tossing one of his pigtails over his shoulder.

"Hey, Kyle?" he says. He crawls over toward Kyle and Cartman, and Kenny is glad to have him go, able to focus solely on Stan, who is breathing shallowly, his cock ramrod straight, dark and full.

"What, Butters?" Kyle says, letting Butters put his hand where Stan's had been.

"Um, can I clean you up?" Butters asks. He arranges his nightie so that it's as neat as possible, slightly come stained and wrinkled.

"Get Cartman off of me and you can do whatever you want," Kyle says, pushing at Cartman's shoulders.

"Want me on my back or on my stomach?" Kenny asks when Stan has made his way over to him. He kisses Stan's face, his shoulder, and eyes his cock, unable to stop staring at it, thinking about that ache, that pressure.

"Um, on your back," Stan says.

"Can I touch it?" Kenny asks, quietly, his hand hovering near the leaking tip. Stan whimpers and nods, spreading his legs a little. "Fuck," Kenny whispers when he feels that tightness against his fingertips, every sensation so close to the surface, making Stan gasp deep down in chest as Kenny's fingers travel over him, just softly.

"Oh," Stan says, watching Kenny touch him. Kenny darts a look at Stan's eyes, but his gaze is fixed down on his cock, as if he can't believe it belongs to him, not while it feels like this. Kenny's fingers dip lower, ghosting across Stan's balls. They're so heavy, full to bursting, and Stan shudders, whimpering again, his shoulders raised and tense.

"Are you gonna be able to handle it?" Kenny asks. "I'm pretty, ah. Tight, I think. I haven't had anyone in there in few years." He checks the other side of the bed: Butters is licking Cartman's come off of Kyle in kittenish swipes of his tongue, Kyle is staring at Stan, looking worried, and Cartman is watching Butters work, tucked against Kyle's side, yawning.

"I can take it," Stan says, the hardness of his voice reclaiming Kenny's attention. Kenny flicks his eyes to Stan's, watching him, waiting to see if he's revealing something here, showing his tell. Stan eases his shoulders down a little, lifts his chin. "I can take it if you can."

Kenny considers this, lowering himself down onto his elbows, his legs hanging over the side of the bed, feet resting on the floor. Stan hoists himself up into a standing position, wobbling just a little, and Kenny rakes his eyes up and down Stan's body, wondering if it's true. Would Stan be able to handle what Kenny has endured? The deaths, the family that isn't one really, the things that he's done for money, the thing he's going to do for them? Dying tomorrow will be the easy part. Living with the knowledge that Trent didn't seek him out and hunt him down, that Kenny orchestrated a run in with him and put him behind bars for good, just in case, just for these people in this room - would Stan be able to do that?

No, he wouldn't. It would destroy Stan to know that he'd ruined someone's life. Kenny will do that for him. He's strong enough, or weak enough, to do that for all of them.

"Come on, then," Kenny says, and he lifts his legs, bracing his feet on the edge of the mattress, his toes curling around it. "Get the lube," Kenny says, smirking when Stan drops down over him, already lining up. "I'm not that hardcore."

"Oh - ha - yeah." Stan isn't trying to prove himself now; he's nervous, squeaking a little when he touches his cock, slicking it very carefully. Kenny isn't sure how Stan will be able to withstand the tightness of his ass if he can't even close his fist around himself without wincing, but he can't wait to see him try.

There's a watery moan from behind them, and Kenny arches to give Kyle and Butters an upside down appraisal. Cartman seems to have revived, and he's up on an elbow, guiding Kyle up over Butters, into a sixty-nine position. Butters is whining like a hungry puppy, the wig pushed off but the nightie still in place, and he sighs with satisfaction when he brings his mouth up to Kyle's ass to lap Cartman's come from him.

"Ah, God," Kyle says, shivering, his forehead resting against Butters' thigh.

"Don't you want to try it, too, Kahl?" Cartman asks. He puts his hand on the back of Kyle's head, not pushing, not yet. "That's your precious Stan's come in him, you know. Butters stole it from you, Kahl. You should get it back."

"Nuh - it's too - it's," Kyle says, stuttering, but he's staring at Butters' ass as Cartman presses Butters' leg down to his chest, angling him so that Kyle could lick up a generous glob of Stan's come if he wanted to. Kenny feels Stan's fingers on him and stops breathing. He tilts up to look at Stan again. He wishes, not for the first time, that he had one of himself for each of them.

"Should I stretch you first?" Stan asks. Kenny shakes his head.

"No, man," he says. "You're so close, c'mon, you need it."

"But - you-"

"I can take it," Kenny says, letting Stan see just a flash of his tell, because he wants someone to know, even if they won't remember. "I promise. C'mon."

Stan kisses Kenny's chest, his neck, and rubs a thumb along his jaw. Stan's cock is just bumping against him, and he's hissing at the contact. Kenny thought he wanted to be thrown down and reamed, and maybe he'll get that later, from Cartman, or from Stan when he revives. For now, for this particular first time, he kind of loves that he has to guide Stan in slow, coaxing him, showing him how.

"Yeah, Kahl, that's a good boy, eat that come," Cartman murmurs. "It's all yours, isn't it? Mhmm, so yummy." Kenny peels his eyes away from Stan's pained and astonished expression to look back over his shoulder. Kyle is bright red with shame, tasting Butters' hole in timid licks, shivering along with Butters every time his tongue slides cautiously around the rim. Cartman has his fingers inside Kyle, and he's pulling his come out a little at a time, feeding it to Butters, who moans gratefully when Cartman brings his sticky fingers to Butters' lips. Watching this, Kenny clenches hard around Stan, who cries out.

"Oh, fuck," Stan says, only halfway in and already shaking. "Kenny, ah, I - I-"

"You don't have to be gentle," Kenny says. He strokes Stan's face until his eyes flutter open. "You don't have to go slow."

"God, I want to fuck you so hard," Stan says, shaking his head, starting to cry. "Kenny."

"You can do it, dude, okay?" Kenny sits up to kiss Stan's face, the corners of his wet eyes. Stan is all the way in now, and Kenny's ass is burning like hell, too full, and since when did Stan get this big? It's a good burn, though, the best kind, and he would know; he's been in a lot of different fires. "Fuck me hard," Kenny says when Stan drags his eyes up to his. Behind them there's moaning, yelping, Cartman's low chuckle, but he's neither of them break their eye lock to look.

"Alright," Stan says. "Okay." He puts his hands on Kenny's chest and pushes him down to the bed. His palm is pressed right over Kenny's heartbeat, like he's going to wrap his fist around Kenny's heart and pull it out. Kenny would be okay with that. He would love that. He squeezes around Stan's cock, and the sob that it pulls out of Stan almost makes him come.

"Please, dude," Kenny says, realizing that this is the only way to push him over the edge. "I need it."

Stan curses and lets his hands slide off of Kenny's chest, onto the mattress, braced on either side of him. He starts snapping his hips the way he did toward the end with Kyle, jerky and determined, rhythm-less. Kenny groans, because he didn't realize how much he'd missed this particular sort of friction, all the pleasure of a stab and a punch with just a hint of the pain. He lifts his legs up, holding the backs of his knees, and doing this sets Stan into some kind of growling auto pilot, a low moan rumbling in his chest as he starts to find his rhythm. His skin is slapping against Kenny's now, loud enough that Kenny knows that the others must be watching.

"Yeah, fuck that ass," Kenny says, his teeth gritted as he watches Stan's eyes get darker and darker, his cock pistoning at full force, punishing Kenny's unprepared ass. "Make me feel it, Marsh. Make me - ungh, fucking - feel it."

Kenny throws his head back and Stan grunts in disapproval, grabbing a handful of Kenny's hair and pulling him up until he's looking at Stan again. Kenny feels like Stan wants him to see something, wants him to hear some unspoken words, and maybe Kenny could if he wasn't starting to reel into mindlessness, his panted breath coming out a little too high pitched, out of his control, building into a whine. Stan is grazing his prostate with clumsy blows, and Kenny is trying to reposition himself so that he'll hit it every time, but Stan keeps shoving him back into place. Kenny comes with a scream when Stan pins him down just when he was close to getting fucked at the perfect angle, and it's the fact that Stan wouldn't let him have it that makes him unravel into nothing for a few blissed out seconds. Coming down from it, he's sure that it was unintentional on Stan's part, because what the hell does Stan know about the intricacies of orgasm denial, but it was perfect, that was perfect. Kenny wants it to last forever, but he knows he's already waited too long, because Stan is sputtering and sort of crazed, crying out helplessly on the end of every desperate thrust.

"Hey," Kenny whispers, grabbing him, making him be still. Stan jerks in his grip and gives him a feral look that surely isn't meant to communicate anything but lust and rage. "Don't you - don't you want to take the ring off now?"

"Oh - oh - fuck," Stan says, and he sobs once, twice, his shoulders tremoring in a worrying way. "I, I forgot, I forgot I could."

"Shh, okay, I'll do it, just be still - be still, Stan, okay?"

Stan drops down onto Kenny and cries into his chest, sniffling wetly, hiding nothing, and Kenny thinks about how he used to get when he was drunk, even when he was just a little drunk and the others couldn't see it. He locks his arm across the back of Stan's neck while he reaches down to the place where they're connected, almost afraid to release the ring when his fingers find it, as if it's a gun that will go off inside him. He pets Stan's hair, and Stan gasps in pain when Kenny tries to adjust the ring, just to see if he can even turn it. He can't; Stan has swelled to its limits, it's cutting into his skin.

"I'm gonna take it off," Kenny says, heart pounding, Stan's cheek pressed over it. "Okay? You ready?"

"Please," Stan says, soft and so weak, and the whimper that follows is Kyle's, from across the bed.

Kenny experiences a moment of bizarre but intense panic, like he won't be able to do this, won't be able to save him, but the ring is just as easy to release as it's ever been, a click and Stan is free. Stan's shout is the kind of bone-shaking thing that could only come from a person who's been torn open, and Kenny holds him while he cries through his orgasm, hoping the neighbors won't call the cops. He whispers shh by instinct, not because it means anything or because he actually wants Stan to be quiet. Stan pulls out of Kenny and crawls up to hide his face against his neck, sniffling, his body still jerking with aftershocks. The others come to pull them more completely onto the bed, and it reminds Kenny of something, some movie he saw as a kid or some nature documentary that broke his jaded heart, a kind of hopeless reunion, the doomed cradling the damned. He has to remind himself of his plan as he stretches out across the bed, Stan still clutched against him. Butters is behind him, attendant, and Kyle has spooned himself up behind Stan, his face pressed to Stan's neck. Kyle is sniffling, too, like he felt every inch of that, but Kenny is pretty sure he just thinks he did. He cracks his eyes open, looking for the blue between Stan's trembling eyelashes, wanting to know that he's okay. Stan's blue is darker than Kenny's, but it's brighter, too, somehow.

"Damn," Cartman says, breaking the solemnity of the moment. He's behind Butters, probably the only one who is still hard, which would account for his dismissal of the gravity that's settled over the room. "That was, uh. Shit."

"Are you okay?" Kyle whispers, sitting up on his elbow and running a hand down over Stan's shoulder and along his side, cupping his hip. Stan opens his eyes a little more widely and nods, scooting forward until his face is pressed to Kenny's.

"Yeah," he says. He's answering Kenny, not Kyle, and when they kiss it's like the first one Kenny has ever really had. He holds Stan's face and closes his eyes, trying to forget everything else, but when Butters licks at his ear he likes that, too, that they don't have to be alone with this. The first person he looks at when he breaks eye contact with Stan is Kyle, and Kyle is studying him like the jury is still out, but he smiles, resting his chin on Stan's shoulder.

"You look so tired," Kyle says, and Kenny isn't sure if he's referring to him or Stan, but it doesn't really matter, because they're both shattered, exhausted. Kenny's face is still pressed to Stan's, his lips on Stan's forehead.

"I am wide awake," Kenny says, lying. Butters laughs and settles in for what feels like sleep, still wearing the nightie. Kenny isn't ready for sleep, even if admits that it's got its claws in him, trying to pull him down deep. This night can't end. If his death is directly related to Trent's incarceration they might not remember any of this. He never knows how far back the erasing will go, just so that they won't know that he suffered. He used to resent that, and now he's glad for it, but he doesn't want them to forget this.

"Man, you guys missed the best part," Cartman says, and for once Kenny is glad for his booming voice, because it's keeping him awake. "Kyle was like a kid in a candy store over there, sucking that come out of Butters-"

"Shut up, fat ass!"

"We all saw it, Kahl! If Stan came in the middle of the street, in the gutter or something, would you get down on your hands and knees and lap that up, too?"

"Seriously, shut up," Kenny says, not appreciating Cartman comparing Butters' ass to the gutter, even if he would be less surprised if Kyle put his mouth in a gutter than in someone's ass. "Cartman, give Kyle a kiss. We all know you want to taste Stan's come, too."

"Pssh! Yeah, right! Hell no!"

"We all know you want to kiss him," Stan says, tilting his chin to glance up at Cartman, and Kenny is proud of Stan for being capable of a smirk like that, as worn down as he is. "So just do it, Cartman, and shut up."

"I don't - ah," Cartman is blubbering, made stupid by how much he wants this, and Kenny doesn't think there's anything else in the in the world that can disarm him like Kyle does. He smiles at Stan, telling him this without saying it out loud, and he can feel Stan hearing it, understanding. Stan smiles, too, and he pulls Kyle's arm across his chest, making Kyle tip toward Cartman in the process. Kyle opens his mouth and Cartman presses his lips to Kyle's before he can speak, breathing hard into Kyle when he leaves his mouth open for Cartman's tongue. Cartman is really huffing, like a fat kid running up a hill, which is what he turns into whenever Kyle gets the best of him. Kenny finds Butters' hand and pulls him closer while he listens to Kyle and Cartman kiss, watching Stan start to fall asleep for real.

"Hey," Kenny whispers. "Wait."

"Mph," Stan says, and he's already there, gone to a place where Kenny can't follow.

Kenny figures he might as well sleep, too, telling himself that it's just a nap. It's got to be after one o'clock in the morning now, the hours already working their way into the day when they're all supposed to die. Kenny isn't interested in giving Death what it wants. He never has been, and has body has always been his only weapon. Lacking an instruction manual, he's done what he can. He sleeps fitfully, waking at moments to press against Stan or tug Butters closer, realizing at one point that the heavy hand on his shoulder is Cartman's. He doesn't mind; he's even glad. If anyone in the world is willful enough to fight off someone else's nightmares, it's Cartman, and Kenny thinks this might be the one night when Cartman would be so selfless.

When he wakes up he's fuzzy as if hungover, though he hasn't had any booze all day. Someone is shuffling, extracting himself from the pile of warmth that they've become. It's Kyle, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face.

"Where are you going?" Kenny asks. His voice is croaky like he's getting over a cold, and when Kyle smiles at him it's real, again. Kenny can't believe it, but Kyle must know: Kenny doesn't want Stan for himself, not even a little, he just wants him close all the time, same as he wants Kyle.

"I need a shower, dude," Kyle says, his voice not much stronger. "I'm, like. Crusty. I feel disgusting."

"But," Kenny says, eyebrows twitching. "You said. What you said, about being down in the dark, wanting us in you-"

"Hey, don't," Kyle says. He touches Stan first, then Kenny, brushing his cheek with his fingers. "I mean, don't - you're in me, no matter what. Now, and before. That was just. That was-"

"No, I know," Kenny says. He's too delirious to talk about this seriously. He sits up, pulling himself carefully from Butters' grip, then from Stan's, Cartman's hand sliding down across Butters' chest.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asks, but he's excited, Kenny can see it in his eyes, by the glow of Stan's Broncos lamp.

"Coming with you," Kenny says. "Uh, if that's alright."

"If that's alright?" Kyle puts out his hand. "Dude, look around. What isn't alright? And yeah, um. I don't want to be alone, so. C'mon."

They close the bathroom door so the others can go on sleeping undisturbed, and Kenny adjusts the temperature of the water, knowing Kyle will correct it. He was expecting Kyle to make it less hot, not more.

"You've got a thing for pain, too, huh?" Kenny says, hissing when he climbs under the hot blast of the shower, steam already fogging up around them. Kyle frowns and lets Kenny pull him forward, Kenny's hands on his hips.

"What?" Kyle says.

"The water - never mind. Here, turn around. I'll do your back first."

Kyle does as Kenny asked, sighing when the soap touches his skin, already calmed by that scent, the antidote to the bodily fluids that are crusted over his skin. Kenny kisses Kyle's neck while he washes his back, pushing his hand down between his ass cheeks to clean him there, too. Kyle gasps and presses back, and Kenny can taste all of them on his neck, even Butters.

"God, it feels so normal," Kyle says, laughing. "After everything."

"What does?" Kenny asks, wanting to hear him articulate it, and knowing, already, exactly what he means.

"You. Just. In the shower with me like this. Washing me or whatever." His voice gets quiet toward the end, and Kenny snakes his hands around to wash his front, his sides.

"This was mine," Kenny says, scrubbing the place just over Kyle's hip where he unloaded when Kyle pulled his hair. "Right here."

"I know," Kyle says. "I felt it."

"Did you? I wasn't sure."

"Mhmm, yeah. Kenny." Kyle turns around and blinks up at him in the low light. Stan has a dimmer on his bathroom switch, used to joke that he needed mood lighting to crap by. Kenny put the light on what might be described as a romantic setting, but he can hardly be blamed, he was half asleep. He presses his nose to Kyle's.

"What?" Kenny says, because Kyle is just looking at him, smiling. There's no way he can actually be this calm, unless he's just too dazed by the evening's activities to remember what tomorrow is.

"You could fuck me," Kyle says, putting his hands on Kenny's chest. "If you want."

"I know." Kenny tugs him closer. "I will. Just give me a minute."

Kyle's eyes get a little wider, and Kenny likes that, still being able to surprise him after all they've already done. He kisses Kyle's parted lips, trying to remember if they've kissed yet, and of course they have, but not like this, softly. The steam makes their hair damp, and Kenny lets Kyle clean him, too, holding Kyle against him while he rubs the soap over Kenny's skin.

"You're awfully calm," Kyle says when he's washing Kenny's back, reaching around him to slide his soapy hand up Kenny's spine.

"I was going to say the same thing to you," Kenny says.

"Ha. Well." Kyle looks up into Kenny's eyes, that haze of lust quickly gone. "You've got something planned, haven't you?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Kenny-"

"I said don't worry."

Kyle groans and puts the soap down. He moves his hand over Kenny's back while the water rinses the suds away, pushing soap bubbles down toward his ass.

"You didn't clean me here," Kenny says, catching Kyle's hand and holding it over his crack. "Where Stan was."

"Do you want me to?" Kyle asks. Kenny can't believe he successfully changed the subject. Maybe Kyle doesn't really want to talk about it, either.

"I'm not asking you to lick it out," Kenny says. "Just use your fingers. If it's not too weird."

"Too weird?" Kyle snorts and raises his eyebrows. Despite this refutation of the potential for weirdness, he's a little shy when he touches Kenny there, feeling him carefully, and it's just right under the burn of the water, Kyle's timid fingers playing around the rim of him like he knows that Kenny is sore, like he's trying to soothe him. Kenny would prefer being teased, maybe even taunted for how raw he is, but Kyle won't know how to do that and Kenny is glad. He can get that from Cartman, maybe, later.

"Hang on a sec," Kyle says, his fingers sliding away. He steps toward the shower curtain.

"Where are you going?" Kenny asks.

"I have to pee," Kyle says, his shoulders lifting a little. "Don't look, okay?" Kenny grins and grabs his wrist.

"Hey, Kyle," he says, pulling him back.

"What? Just - wait, I'll be done in one second -"

"You know how I made a list of all the stuff I wanted to try tonight?"

"Yes," Kyle says, rolling his eyes. "Why?"

"One of them was, well. I think one of the things you should try tonight is peeing in the shower. Because you never have."

"Gross," Kyle says, wrinkling his nose. "I can't believe you guys do that."

"Only sometimes," Kenny says. "It's just convenient. Or maybe it feels kinda good. You'll never know if you don't try."

"Really? Really, Kenny? This is the one thing you're going to try to talk me into?"

"Oh, please, I've talked you into everything you did tonight. And you liked it all, yeah?"

"Well, yeah, but." Kyle scowls. "You know how I feel about pee!"

"Yeah, and I know how you feel about Cartman. Getting off with him still felt pretty good, right?"

Kyle smirks. "Are you comparing Cartman to urine?"

"No, as much as you might enjoy that. I'm saying that tonight is about confronting your fears, Kyle, and your insecurities, and turning them into something good."

"Something good. Like peeing in the shower."

"Yes, or sucking Cartman's balls. And, also. You could do me a favor."

"Oh, what?" Kyle reels backward. "Kenny, I'm not peeing on you."

"Why not? It's on my list!"

"Wha - how - why would you want that?" Kyle is boggling, and Kenny can't help but laugh.

"I dunno," Kenny says. "It's just one of those things I've never tried."

"Yeah, and you can go to your grave feeling good about that. Now let me go, I need to pee."

"Please, Kyle? Please?" Kenny pulls him close again, and Kyle whines, letting himself be pulled. "The soap is right here. If you feel dirty after, I'll clean you again."

"Kenny," Kyle says, moaning. He sounds irritated, but there's some vague interest sneaking into his eyes, and he's hard, his cock pressed to Kenny's thigh.

"I'll fuck you real good after," Kenny says, whispering this in Kyle's ear. "Get you all dirty again." He licks along the rim of Kyle's ear and feels him shudder as he steps a little closer.

"Why can't you just make Butters pee on you?" Kyle asks. "He'll do anything."

"I know, but that's why I don't want to ask him. I want you to want this, dude. To let it go."

"You're so weird," Kyle says, mumbling, but some of the tension has left his shoulders, and he's leaning into Kenny's embrace now. He gasps when Kenny reaches down to touch his cock.

"Are you sensitive?" Kenny asks, stroking him softly, whispering. "'Cause you're so full?"

"Kenny, Jesus."

"It's okay, Kyle. It's just me. I promise I won't tell Stan."

Kyle whimpers and slumps against him, rubbing himself on Kenny's hand. Kenny actually didn't think it would be this easy, but Kyle really was sent into some kind of frenetic sexual awakening by watching Stan come, or maybe just by kissing him, or maybe it started when Kenny took his pants off and looked around at the rest of them like the only logical conclusion would be for them to get undressed, too. He was so afraid they would refuse. He really needed all of them for his plan to work: Butters with his sweet agreeability, Cartman with his selfish impatience, and Stan's openness, the trust he has in all of them. Those were the three ingredients required to get the crown jewel, prudish Kyle, to the state he's currently in, humping Kenny's hand with a full bladder, squeezing his arms.

"I can't," Kyle whispers, hiding his face against Kenny's shoulder. "Ah - it won't come."

"Just relax," Kenny says. He rubs his hands down over Kyle's back and gives his neck a gentle pinch. "Just let it happen." He takes Kyle's cock and presses it to the inside of his thigh, aimed downward. He actually didn't have this on his list, and could give two shits about being peed on. He just wants Kyle to trust him. That's why his cock is hard and heavy right now, throbbing; Kyle is so close to trusting him this much.

"Ah- Kenny-"

"Shh, it's okay. It'll be our secret, alright? You know I'd never judge you, I'd never laugh at you. You can do this to me, I don't mind. You can do anything to me, anything you want."

"I don't - don't want to hurt you, degrade you-" Kyle is shaking a little, staring down at his dick, his nails digging into Kenny's arms.

"You could never hurt me," Kenny says. "If I took a bullet for you, it would feel good. I'd want it. This is hardly a bullet, right? Just let it go, Kyle, it's okay. I can take it."

So maybe this isn't entirely about Kyle trusting him, or it is, but it's more than that, too. Kyle gasps as he watches it happen, then whimpers, and Kenny can barely feel it as it mixes with the hot water from the shower, so he watches Kyle's face to get the full effect, his disbelief and vulnerability, his eyebrows arching, mouth open. When he looks up at Kenny his mouth is still open, and he's asking for approval, begging for it.

"That was good," Kenny says, nodding, kissing the corners of Kyle's mouth, his trembling eyelids. "So good, thank you, thank you for that."

"Fuck me," Kyle says, his hands unclenching and his arms sliding up to wind around Kenny's neck. "Please, now, please."

"Shh, okay. C'mon, let's turn the water off. Shower sex is a total bust, trust me."

They do it on the bathroom floor, mostly dried off, Kenny with his back to the wall and Kyle in his lap, lowering himself down slowly. They both exhale when Kenny is fully enclosed, and Kenny can't believe how tight he still feels, even after Cartman's pounding. They just kiss for awhile, Kyle's hips wiggling a little, his arms pressed to Kenny's chest, hands on his shoulders. It's calm, quiet, and Kyle stops at one point to sit back and look at Kenny as if he's seeing him from years in the future, remembering this moment and understanding it in hindsight.

"Don't let him do whatever he thinks he's going to do," Kyle says. Kenny is a little fogged by the feeling of Kyle all around him, but it doesn't take him long to catch on. He's talking about Stan. He's talking about tomorrow.

"I won't," Kenny says. "I'll keep him safe. I promise." Kyle nods slowly, and his eyes fill up, but he takes a deep breath, lifts his chin, and beats the tears back.

"I know," Kyle says. He leans onto Kenny's chest again, his eyelashes fluttering against Kenny's cheek. "I know you will, oh. Kenny."

"It'll be okay," Kenny says, trying to make this promise with his whole body, wishing he could help Kyle understand that, whatever sacrifice he makes, they'll forget it and he'll be returned to them. It's fair enough for him, for now, but Kyle is shaking hard, afraid of what he thinks he's asking Kenny to do. "It'll be okay, I promise," Kenny says, moving inside Kyle as he says so, his hands sliding over Kyle's back. "Trust me, please trust me. It'll be okay."

They both come, Kyle pumping his sort of lovingly onto Kenny's chest, the inverse of what he did in the shower, and Kenny is deep inside Kyle when he comes, pushing a soft moan into Kyle's damp curls. They stay connected for a long time, Kyle's head resting on Kenny's shoulder while Kenny strokes his back, pretending to mistake the tears that are dripping onto his skin for droplets of water from Kyle's hair.

"What would we do without you?" Kyle asks. His voice is small, and Kenny knows what he's really asking, what he thinks he has to contemplate: What will we do without you?

"You'd be a square," Kenny says, grinning when Kyle sits up to look at him, frowning, confused. "Perfect but boring. A blunt object."

"Huh?"

"'Cause now, with the five of us?" Kenny isn't sure he should say this while Kyle thinks he's going to die, but he wants to tell someone, and maybe only Kyle will appreciate this. "We're five points of the same star." He draws one on Kyle's chest in demonstration. Once, for Kyle's thirteenth birthday, Stan got him a Star of David necklace. It was pretty, made of real silver, bought with money Stan had saved up all summer from his paper route. Kenny was so jealous of him for being able to give that to Kyle, but he's grown up a lot since then. He doesn't get jealous anymore, not really. He has his own gifts to give them.

"We should all get tattoos of that," Kyle says. He's drawing stars on Kenny's chest now, too, sniffling. "In the same place. Just a little star somewhere."

"Isn't that against your religion?"

"Oh, fuck, you're right," Kyle says. He sighs. "You get mine for me, okay?"

"Okay." Kenny kisses the end of his nose. He could stay here all night, inside Kyle, the humidity of the shower lingering around them, but he misses the others, and he knows Kyle does, too. "Want to go back out there and see if anyone else is awake?"

"In a minute," Kyle says, and he throws his arms around Kenny's neck again. "Just give me a minute."

Part III