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luna-themoonie · 1 year ago

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Chapter Eight

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Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.

Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?

What was the dare?:

Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.

~~~

Stan was exhausted by the time Sunday came around. Kyle wasn't available yesterday like he had hoped so they decided today would work instead. Which… kinda sucked because his thoughts didn't leave him alone once it was a new day. He kept replaying the thoughts he had at the picnic and the feeling of constant nausea he would experience. He was still confused and he didn't like it.

He had tried calling Tweek again, hoping he had his phone this time, but to no avail. Craig had picked up for him again and Stan had hung up on him before he was able to work on any of his nerves.

He tried to ignore it, but that just made it worse and he just couldn't stand it. So, he ended up picking up an extra shift to deter his racing mind, but all that did was just make another part of him feel fatigued. Even sleeping wasn't enough to distract him because once he was aware that he was awake, nerves came flooding back and he couldn’t stop thinking about Butters again. He was all he could think about and no distraction was enough. He spent his entire Saturday thinking about the blonde. And he hated it.

He couldn't stop thinking about how he looked under the stars. Or how Stan had thought, for a moment, that the other boy was pretty. Or how when he hugged him, it was like he was given just a few moments of peace and the unfamiliar happiness mixed with a bundle of nerves piling in his stomach. What can he say? Butters' sunny demeanor was addictive once you got a small taste.

It shouldn't bother him, it doesn't bother him… but the more he thought of him, the more out of control his thoughts became. And that's when the nerves and nausea would get worse.

Everything that he recently learned about the blonde would spiral together and create unwanted images in his head. Now he kept on thinking about him making out with different people. It didn't matter if he knew them or not. And it made him feel so guilty.

Then he would start to think about Kenny and Butters kissing. How that would look. It would make his stomach churn. And then Kenny morphed into someone that looked eerily like himself. Now he was thinking about kissing Butters himself. How that would look. He even thought about how it would be like to kiss Kenny.

He felt his stomach give an intense flip and he let out a groan. It was all he could think about ever since the thought had first crossed his mind and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. They were his friends. He shouldn't be thinking about them like that.

Butters did offer to help him if he had any questions, but Stan just felt embarrassed just thinking about it. What was he going to do? He can't just go up to him and say, "Hey, dude! Ever since you told me you were bisexual I can't stop thinking about you making out with random people, including myself! I don’t know why, do you? And can I kiss you to see if it's just as enticing as you make it sound?"

He didn't want to take advantage of Butters' sexuality just because he was curious. But at the same time, he felt if he didn’t do anything, his thoughts would eat him alive. He tried telling himself that he just misses Wendy and that's why he's feeling confused. But the more he tried repeating that, the less his mind believed it.

He was hoping maybe Kyle could talk some sense into him; connect the dots as he usually did. Help him understand why nothing was working to stop him from having these inappropriate thoughts about his friends. And maybe, finally, these stupid thoughts can go away and he can focus on something else. Like finding out how to get Wendy back! Though, he still wasn't sure what he had done wrong in the first place.

He and Kyle had decided to meet up in the park today since his best friend wanted to practice at the basketball court for an upcoming game. It wasn't too far and they planned on even getting some food afterward too. But… there was one problem - he couldn’t get up.

He wanted to, he really did, but all he could manage was to turn to lay on his other side. He still had to see Kyle. He tried repeating in his head to try to convince himself to get up. All this did was fill him with an empty sense of dread that he would have to get up sooner or later.

He didn’t want to cancel on him again - he was more prone to doing that these days - but his entire body just felt like lead. He just couldn't move.

He heard his dog yawn and let out a whine as he padded around his room. Stan sighed and grabbed his pillow to cover his head. And he had to let Sparky out.

His eyes kept on drifting closed, but sleep wouldn't overtake him no matter how long he stayed in his bed. Sometimes… He just wanted to sleep forever, hide himself from everything and everyone. And plus, nothing bad ever happens when you’re sleeping.

Sparky let out another loud whine and Stan was quick to hush him. "Just hold it a little longer, boy," he mumbled before hiding under his covers. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried again to lull himself back to sleep.

A soft knock on his door had his eyes shooting open instead. "Stan?"

He tried to respond to his mom, but the only thing that came out was a low hum.

He heard his door open. "Stanley?"

He hummed again, this time louder.

"Sparky has been whining this entire time. You should take him for a walk."

He didn't acknowledge this at first. He just shifted under his cocoon of blankets to try to stay within the warmth. He gave her a hum of acknowledgment but still made no effort to move.

His mom sighed from the doorway and he heard her walk into his room. "Fine, Stanley, I'll take him. I made some breakfast for you. Can you at least go down to eat that? Please? And maybe we can talk? "

He took a moment before he gave another hum and listened as she spoke to Sparky in a high voice. She did this for a bit before the door closed and Stan was now left alone. Stan sighed as he continued to lay there, struggling with an internal battle of whether he should go join her or stay in bed. She was always there for him and supported him in all of his endeavors. He at least owed having breakfast with her.

He sighed again and pushed himself up in his bed after making his final decision. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and paused again. Okay, we're getting there. He stretched and the immediate desire to lay back down overtook him. He forced himself to ignore this and got up to walk over to his dresser. This was where the key to surviving most of his days was. He crouched down and pulled open the last drawer, revealing the extra clothes he piled in there without bothering to fold them. He began to rummage through the bottom drawer and pulled out a familiar substance - his just-under-half-empty bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey.

He licked his lips as he opened the bottle and gulped down the remaining amount, letting the warmth distract him just for a moment. He paused for a long moment before reaching back into the drawer and pulling out a new bottle. He opened it and took a few big gulps before deciding it was enough. He rehid the bottle back in his drawer, planning on disposing of it later when his mom wasn't around to see. He pushed himself up, rubbing the remaining sleep from his face before leaving his room.

As he made his way downstairs to join his mom for breakfast, he couldn't help but feel the effects of the whiskey taking hold of him. The world felt a little fuzzy around the edges, but he was used to this feeling by now. He had been sneaking sips of alcohol every now and then since he was thirteen; originally trying it when he was about ten. It was a way to cope with his problems, a way to forget about all the ways the world was turning to shit around him.

His mom was already seated at the table when he entered the kitchen, munching on a slice of toast. She gave him a small smile, noticeably happy that he had decided to join her. "Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?"

He mumbled a response and took a seat across from her, trying to ignore the way his head was beginning to pound.

She poured him a cup of coffee and pushed a plate of scrambled eggs, his own sausage, and toast towards him. "Eat up, honey. You'll need your energy for the day."

He picked up his fork and started poking at the eggs, trying to force himself to eat despite his lack of appetite. He took a sip of coffee and glanced up at his mom, noticing how her eyes lingered on him. He cleared his throat awkwardly and set his drink down. “So… how has work been?” He asked, hoping to distract her enough for him not to feel like she was watching his every move.

“Oh, it’s been good. There was this client that came in the other day and she-”

Honestly, Stan didn’t care enough to listen, but he hummed and nodded along like he was. He slowly ate his breakfast, staring down at his plate as she droned on about her work and the interesting tidbits she wanted to share.

When she grew quiet once more, Stan decided to look up at her. It was obvious she wanted to talk about something other than work, it was this look she always got. He looked away from her again, trying to avoid her watchful eye. She took a moment to sip at her coffee and hummed quietly. A long moment passed between them and she finally began to speak again. “Stan… I want to talk to you about something.” And there it was…

Stan shifted in his seat and gave a small sigh. “About what?”

She hummed quietly again, taking a moment as though she was trying to figure out how to word her question. “I was just wondering… is there… maybe, I don’t know, something you want to tell me?”

Stan looked up at his mom, confused. “What?”

She shrugged with a nonchalant look. “You know you can be honest with me. I won’t get mad at you, you know. I think it’s completely normal.”

Guilt began to bubble up in his chest and he looked down at his food again to avoid making eye contact with her. “I…" He stabbed at his eggs. "I have some Jameson in my room… I had some this morning.”

His mom was quiet for a long time and Stan was sure she was coming up with a way to punish him. She finally moved and walked over to him before brushing his hair back and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “That’s okay. Thank you for telling me. And I just want you to know that I’ll love you no matter what, Stanley.”

He was surprised, but he didn’t show it. “I… I know, Mom. I love you too.”

She patted his cheek with a warm smile and planted another kiss on the top of his head. She paused and played with his hair for a moment. “You… washed your hair?”

Stan ran his head through his hair at the mention of it. “Yeah.”

“For… the meteor shower… with your friend.”

He nodded, confused on why she was mentioning it again. “Yeah. I told you, it was all Bebe’s idea.”

His mom nodded, but something in her eyes told him that she wasn’t entirely convinced. “I see.” She moves to grab her empty plate and mug to bring to the sink. She hums quietly, obviously in thought. “Oh, yeah. Kyle called earlier. He told me to tell you that he’s at the basketball court in the park.”

Stan furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the clock in the kitchen. “Ah, shit!”

“Language!”

Stan fumbled out of his seat and out of the kitchen. He was late! He didn’t even check the time when he got up. He made his way up the stairs as fast as he could and into his room. He grabbed his phone and, sure enough, saw five missed calls from his best friend. He rushed to change out of his pajamas, throwing on whatever he could find that he thought were clean before practically running out of his room.

It wasn’t long before he returned, heading straight to the dresser and pulling the bottom drawer open once again. He took another few large swigs, just enough to feel buzzed enough to be able to withstand the disappointed look Kyle undoubtedly was going to give him. He shoved the bottle back into the drawer and fumbled out of his room once again and down the stairs.

When he reached the front door, he grabbed his keys, struggling to take off his car keys to leave them behind for his mom - a condition she gave him if he was going to drink. He called out a salutation to his mom before leaving the house. He rushed towards the park as fast as he could without slipping or falling and within a matter of minutes he saw the basketball court with a solitary red-head.

When Kyle saw him, his eyes slightly narrowed, but he continued to dribble the ball. “You’re late.” He called out to him as he got closer.

He raised his hand in apology. “Yeah, I’m sorry, dude.”

Kyle was quiet for a moment, but then passed the ball over to him, in which he admittedly fumbled with as it reached him. “It’s fine, just hope you’re up to try to beat me. I need a challenge.”

Kyle was most definitely not going to be challenged by Stan’s skills, but that didn’t stop him from trying. They played a few rounds, Stan stumbling around compared to Kyle’s calculated movements. Not sure how exactly to bring up his issue while they played, he decided to talk about something else until he could figure it out. “So… how’s everything going? With the dare, I mean.” He asked when Kyle scored another point.

Kyle scoffed as he caught the ball. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Stan hummed and caught the ball as it was passed over to him. “Okay…” Unbothered, he dribbled the ball and tried to keep it away from Kyle, which was practically impossible.

Kyle scored another basket and sighed as he caught the ball again. “Everything he has us doing is bullshit!” And there it was. “I don’t even know why we’re doing it. His ‘punishments’ aren’t even that bad. It's not even like sending Ike to Canada is horrible, he’s been mentioning going after he graduates. But who knows where Cartman is going to have him? And my parents would kill me if I'm the reason he got sent off out of the blue.”

“And the college thing,” Stan added.

Kyle huffs and tosses the ball to him again. “Yeah, that too. But I can deal with four months.”

“But can your parents?”

His eyes narrowed at him and Stan decided to try to keep his mouth shut for the time being. They continued to play in silence, which was not what Stan wanted to go for, but he was nervous. It showed in how he played, not that he was much good in the first place, but at least he was manageable without his sweaty palms and jerky reactions.

When Stan was finally able to steal the ball from Kyle long enough, he took a shot. He wobbled a bit and missed the net by a considerable amount. "Ah, shit. Sorry, dude, I had a drink before coming." The excuse was immediate. He didn’t want Kyle to think anything else was wrong with him.

Kyle didn't respond to that, though. Instead, he picked up the ball and tossed it back toward him. So, Stan tried shooting again, but this time he hit the rim of the basket. Kyle was quick to catch the ball, but he didn't try sending the ball back to Stan’s outstretched hands. "I'm going to get a few drills in." Kyle didn't want to play with him anymore. He usually used his 'drills' as an excuse to stop watching Stan being bad at the sport.

So, Stan gave him a silent nod and stepped back to give Kyle some room while he watched him.

Kyle was lean… tall… fiery in a spirited way. His curls were kept short, but still noticeable from under his hat and his skin was on the paler side. He had a sharp, masculine look about him, something Stan was always a little jealous of.

When Stan realized his gaze was slowly moving down his body as he considered his thoughts, he snapped himself out of it and refocused on the ball instead, his cheeks growing warm.

That was it. Maybe he could pretend to ignore the problem if it had just stayed Butters or Kenny. But imagining Kyle! He had to get to the bottom of this fast. But how? What was he supposed to do? He’s never talked to Kyle about his sexuality, and vice-versa. It was just something… they’d never considered talking about. Not that it mattered.

"Hey… you alright, dude?"

Stan refocused on Kyle and saw that he had moved to stand in front of him, holding the ball out and waiting for him. “Y-yeah…" He cleared his throat so his voice could stop shaking. "Just zoned out, my bad." Kyle indicated the ball once again and Stan shook his head. “Nah, man. I don’t think I’m a good match for you. But keep doing your thing.”

Kyle shrugged in response and dribbled the ball to a spot along the line, setting up a shot.

Well, it was now or never. He cleared his throat to try to get Kyle’s attention and hesitated before speaking. “Dude?”

Kyle, still focused on dribbling the ball in his spot to get a good shot, didn’t look at Stan when he responded, “Yeah?”

Stan’s words were caught in his throat and he felt like throwing up. His mouth floundered as he tried to force the words out. Anything, anything to get the ball rolling. “Have…” He swallowed. “Have you ever… I don’t know… wantedtokissaguybefore?” He rushed out.

When Stan had finished his question, Kyle had turned to look at him, eyes wide, just as the ball had left his hand. Everything happened so fast, Stan almost didn't understand how it happened - the ball had hit the corner of the backboard and had shot back to hit Kyle square in the face.

Kyle keeled over, his hands covering his nose.

"Holy shit, dude!" Stan ran over to him and grabbed his shoulders to try to get a better look at the damage. "Fuck, man, you're bleeding!"

"What do you mean?"

"Huh? Your nose, dude."

Kyle’s eyebrows furrowed. "Why would I want to kiss another guy?"

Stan couldn't believe it. Kyle was seriously backtracking the conversation as if a fountain of blood wasn't spilling from his nose. "I don't know! Like how you kissed Craig."

Kyle blanched. "No! Why would you think that?!"

"I-"

"That's gross! I would never do that!" The color in Kyle’s face began to return at a rapid pace, now surpassing its original color. "Especially with Craig!" And you technically already did.

"I-it doesn't have to be- I didn’t mean just Craig."

"What?” He scoffed. “You think I would kiss you?”

Stan felt a harsh pang in his chest at this. “N-no, not…” He let go of Kyle, not understanding why Kyle was being mean about this and why his chest was beginning to hurt. "I just wanted-"

"Wanted what?

I just wanted to know if what I'm feeling is normal.

Instead, what came out was, “Kyle… You’re being a douchebag.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because the look he got from him was scalding. He gave a sound of surprise as Kyle pushed him off and stood. "This is all your fucking fault!”

Stan felt hurt and confused, looking up at his best friend as he seethed with anger. “What-?”

“‘Let’s go to the party, Kyle!’ ‘You need to relax, Kyle!’ ‘It’s just going to be a little party, nothing bad is gonna happen. Take the stick out of your ass Kyle!’ If you didn’t fucking force me to go to that party, I wouldn’t have Cartman up my ass anymore than he already is and dealing with Craig’s bullshit! But, no, you wanted to go to the party for Wendy!”

“That’s not-”

"Look at where that got us! You're so fucking pathetic and desperate for Wendy’s attention that we have to do some bullshit game to entertain Cartman. Why is it always the same damn thing with you?”

Stan swallowed, his eyes wide as he looked up at the redhead. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"

“Yeah, yeah, I am! Because you have been the same ever since I fucking met you. Always so self-centered and pessimistic. It’s no wonder Wendy keeps breaking up with you, you’re so fucking tiring. I wouldn’t want to deal with you either.”

That was a low blow. He pushed himself up and took a step closer, but was still wary of getting too into Kyle’s space. "I really am trying, Kyle."

"Trying what? Nothing has changed. It's always the same damn thing with you! You always make everything about yourself!"

"Like you're any better?" Was Stan’s response and he was suddenly shoved to the ground by Kyle, making him give a loud ‘oof.’

"You better shut the fuck up! I don't give a shit if you're supposed to be my friend, I will still fuck you up if you keep testing me."

“You’re being a shitty friend,” was Stan’s weak attempt at any sort of comeback.

Kyle let out a mocking laugh. "News Flash, Stan: You're just as shitty of a friend! You always think of yourself and fuck how everybody else feels, right?" Stan began to blink rapidly as he felt his eyes begin to sting. "Until you fix whatever the fuck is wrong with you, don't talk to me. I'm done with all of your bullshit." Kyle stomped over to the ball and picked it up as he wiped his nose, staining his sweater. He didn't spare another glance towards Stan as he trudged out of the park.

Stan continued to stare at where his best friend was just a few seconds ago… or could he really call him that anymore? Kyle was right after all. Stan was so desperate to keep the bond between the two of them that he refused to see that it was fraying the entire time during these past years.

He pushed himself up from the ground, stumbling for a moment. He wanted to go home. He should've just listened to himself and canceled again. Maybe, this wouldn't have happened… He could feel tears blurring in his eyes and he hurriedly wiped them away. He didn’t want to cry. Not now, especially not now when there was a chance for Kyle to still see him. He didn’t want him to know that he had completely crushed him. He didn’t bother cleaning himself off as he finally moved to exit the park.

Pathetic… Desperate… That’s what Kyle had called him. He wondered if other people saw him that way, he wondered if Wendy did. If Kyle was right… He must be… it was almost rare for him to be both passionate and wrong. Hey, but at least he can thank Kyle for one thing - He definitely wasn't thinking about Butters anymore.

Stan didn’t even realize when he got home, so lost in his thoughts. He took a breath and tried being quiet as he entered his house, but nothing really went past his mom.

"Stan?" Her head poked out from the kitchen. "You're already back?"

He nodded, clearing his throat. "Yeah."

She paused before taking a step out towards him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He was quick to say. "I'm just-" He choked back a sob and rushed towards the stairs. "I'm just tired. I'm gonna go lay down."

"Oh, Stanley-"

But he didn’t want to hear it. He took two steps at a time to reach his room as quickly as he could. He didn’t want her to worry and dote over him. He didn’t want her to hug him. And he definitely didn't want to cry in front of her.

When he reached his room he immediately holed himself inside, locking the door to make sure he was left alone, falling to his knees next to his dresser and pulling the drawer open. He didn’t bother being careful when digging through it, just wanting to be quick. He pulled out the bottle of Jameson again, this time finishing off the bottle. The burning warmth only distracted him for a moment, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

With a shuddery sigh, he pushed himself to stand and went over to his bed without bothering to change. He crawled under his covers once again, letting its warmth and darkness envelop him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and put his pillow over his head, trying to induce drowsiness once more. He wanted to get away so badly. Go to sleep and just forget about everything, even just for a moment.

Because nothing bad ever happens when you're sleeping.

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luna-themoonie · 2 years ago

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Chapter One

A Raven and a Bat to See the Light in One Another

I also have this story posted on Ao3, Fanfiction.net, Quotev, and Wattpad if you'd rather read it on any of those websites!

What was the dare?:

Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.

~~~

The scene takes place at Tolkien’s new place.

It was a party that Stan was invited to. One being thrown by Clyde.

As much as he didn’t want to go, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to go for a few hours. Stan decided to go with Kyle, well, more like dragged him along so he could relax a bit. He’s been holed up in his room, overworking himself with his studies. He knew it would be far-fetched that Kyle would want to stay for the entire duration of the party, but he had to try.

By the time they reached the party, people were already piled inside while others lounged outdoors. As they both exited Stan’s Honda, Stan heard Kyle mutter complaints under his breath about being there. They both trudged their way to the large house and shimmied their way inside.

The music was loud, people were laughing and drinking, and drinking games were being played. Stan made sure to keep Kyle beside him, knowing that if he had a chance, he would dip out with someone else. He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and led him to the kitchen where he was sure the drinks were going to be. Stan motioned for Kyle to choose his drink as he began to dig through a nearby cooler.

Kyle got to work on his drink while Stan cracked open a can for himself. He looked around the small group of people in the kitchen. A group of four were trying to chug down as much alcohol as they could and a couple was making out in the corner. He looked back at Kyle who was now adding ice to his drink. “Do you think Wendy’s here?”

Kyle glanced over at him, one of his eyebrows raised in question as he took a sip of his concoction. “Why?”

Stan shrugged. “I just want to talk to her.”

“For?”

Stan huffed. “Why does it matter?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Dude, you need to get over it. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want to be with you anymore.” Kyle had his eyebrows knitted together as he stared down at the drink in his hand.

“Thanks for your support,” Stan’s sarcastic comment earned a glare from him.

“You know what, I’m leaving.” Kyle slammed his cup down on a nearby table. “I’m not going to stay here just to hear you bitch about Wendy.” He shouldered Stan out of his way. “I have to get back to my applications anyway.”

Stan felt his body run cold. He grabbed his best friend’s arm to stop him. “No, wait. I’m sorry, Kyle. Don’t leave. You’re stressing yourself out a lot more than you need to. Just relax a little.” Stan could see Kyle clenching his jaw. “If you still want to leave after an hour, we can.”

Kyle pulled his arm away. “Fine,” He turned back to face him, “but if you mention Wendy one more time…”

“Okay, okay.” Stan held his hand up to stop him. “I got it.”

Stan did as he promised and held his tongue about Wendy for the rest of their time there. And sure enough, as long as he did, Kyle loosened up more bit by bit. Though, that came to a quick end when they met up with Cartman, Kenny, and Butters. Knowing Cartman was there made Kyle visibly tense. Stan, not wanting him to leave, placed a hand on his shoulder, gently massaging it to show that there was no need to fight with him again.

Of course, Cartman had a sneering remark to say to Kyle, there was no way there wouldn’t.

Kenny brushed Cartman away from the two and placed a sloppy kiss on each of their cheeks with a, “Hey, dudes! You showed up!”

Butters gave the two a large smile and a small wave. “Heya, fellas!”

The group of five stayed together for the remainder of their time, though as many times as they tried, they couldn’t shake off Cartman. The longer they stayed, the more people they found to interact with - Red, Craig, Tweek, Annie, and so on. Stan kept on glancing around for a familiar ravenette but didn’t dare share that fact with his best friend. Instead, with every look without the girl in sight, Stan took another gulp of his beer.

Soon enough, Kyle began to complain to Stan about being there, and so, their time came to an end. Stan and Kyle began to say their ‘goodbye’s’ to their friends and began to find the two hosts of the party.

They made their way up the stairs where Clyde and Tolkien were. Leaning against the second-floor railing, looking over the party. Tolkien seemed to be getting more and more annoyed the closer Stan got.

Once they reached them, Stan spoke up. “Hey, dudes. We’re gonna head out now.”

“Head out?” Clyde’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. “No, no. Stay for a little longer.” He turned to Tolkien. “Please, Tolkien.”

He rolled his eyes. “If you really want to do that, we’re gonna have to end the party now.”

Clyde groaned and stomped his foot like an angry child. “Fine.” He pulled out his phone and began to quickly type away.

Tolkien turned to Stan. “Just wait a few minutes when everyone leaves. Clyde wants us to do something and he won’t stop crying about it.”

“I don’t do that!”

“Mmm-hm.” Tolkien turned back to look over the party. “Everybody! Listen up!” The party slowly dwindled to a silence. “This party is ending in ten minutes, I need you all to go! Take the rest of the booze if you want, I don’t care, just leave!”

The crowd didn’t take long to disperse either to different parts of the house or outside of it. Others came up to thank the two for the party, though, the more people did, the more annoyed Tolkien looked. To Stan, this meant this party was planned and done by the brunette without his permission.

Soon the house was empty, though now revealing a mess. Tolkien sighed. “Clyde, you better clean this up.”

“No probs!” He looked over the edge and Stan looked along with him to see some others popping back in and heading up the stairs where they were. Standing around them were the members of ‘The Boys’ and ‘Those Guys.’

“Okay, we stayed. What did you want, Clyde?” Kyle asked.

Clyde looked at him with a large smile. “I want us to hang out!”

“Hang out?” Stan looked behind him to see Bebe reach the top of the steps. He gulped and tried avoiding making any type of eye contact with the girl who followed behind her. “Is that all you wanted?”

“I have to go home though,” Wendy told them. “I need to finish my report.”

“Yeah, me too,” Kyle chimed in.

“Oh, come on, guys,” Clyde whined. “We haven’t hung out in forever. Let’s, like, actually hang out, not just sit next to each other during lunch. Let’s do something fun!”

“No way, dude,” Craig immediately shut down the idea.

Stan narrowed his eyes at him. “Like what, Clyde?”

Clyde looked at Stan as if he had just saved his life. “I was thinking ‘Truth or Dare!’”

“‘Truth or Dare?’” Kyle commented with a sneer. “We aren’t kids anymore, Clyde.”

“Yeah, Clyde,” Red commented, popping up from behind Craig. “We aren’t kids.”

Clyde looked like a kicked puppy. “Oh… Okay…”

She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Hey, don’t be sad. ‘Truth or Dare’ is for middle schoolers. We need a better game.”

Clyde immediately perked up. “Like what?”

She poked his nose. “You’ll see.” She turned to Tolkien. “Tolkien, you gotta room for this stuff?”

He shrugged. “We could go to the basement.”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him with a finger gun. “Perfect. To the basement, we go.”

“I’m not staying,” Wendy spoke up, aggravation in her voice.

Red rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. You can leave.” She elbowed Tweek’s side, making him yelp, and ‘whispered’ to him obnoxiously loud, clearly so Wendy could hear. “She was a stick in the mud, anyways. We don’t need her to have fun.”

Wendy’s face grew aflame. “No, I’m not!” She turned to the stairs and made her way down them, but instead of leaving out through the front door, she went through a different door under where they stood, presumably the basement.

Red laughed. “Works every time.” She began to push everyone towards the stairs. “Now, you all go wait in the basement. Nichole, you come with me.”

Nichole nodded and stayed by her side as Red made the rest of the group go down the stairs and towards the basement.

“What are we even gonna be doing?” Kenny asked.

“It doesn’t matter.” Red began to push Stan and Kenny, the last two, towards the basement stairs. “You all go downstairs and Nichole and I will meet you down there.”

Stan shook his head, now amused. He decided to play along to see what she had come up with. He made it to the bottom of the stairs and looked around the basement. It was clean, so Tolkien had probably crossed the area off from others when the party was going on. Stan and Kenny walked passed by Cartman, sitting on a recliner, and Wendy, sitting on the ground near the coffee table. They both made their way to sit on the couch where Kyle was. Stan sat himself besides Kyle while Kenny sat to his left.

Are you ready for this, bitches?” Red questioned as she suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She now wore a backpack that wasn’t with her before. Nichole popped up behind her with a small cooler in her hands.

Nichole began to pass around drinks from the cooler. Stan decided to settle on a bottle of another beer.

Red sat herself down at the coffee table and set the backpack down. She began to dig through it and pulled out a red solo cup and a handful of sticks. She placed the sticks inside of the cup and held it for everyone to see. “First and foremost, this is called ‘The King’s Game,’ and what the king says is absolute.” She poured the sticks out from the cup onto the table before looking around and pointed to everybody one at a time, including herself. “Okay, there are fourteen of us, so,” she began to number the sticks from one to thirteen, “there are thirteen sticks that are numbered, but one of them,” she held one up that had a drawing of a crown, “represents who is the king.” She placed the sticks back into the cup with the markings at the bottom. “All we have to do is to pick a stick without looking and that’s who you represent. Before we find out who the king is, we all have to say, ‘who is the king?’ You guys understand?”

The responses she got were more uncertain than anything.

She sighed and continued. “Say, the king is Kenny and his dare is someone to kiss somebody else. He can’t say anybody’s name specifically. He would have to say, ‘I dare three to kiss six,’ and the people who drew those numbers have to do what he says no matter what. You get it?”

“So, uh, it’s really just a game of dares, but you don’t know who is getting dared?” Butters asked.

“Exactly!” Red pulled a sheet of paper from her bag. “Okay, before we start, we need to set up some rules. How far are we going to go sexual-wise?”

“Not at all.”

“Wendy, that’s not an option.” She wrote down in bold letters: ‘RULES’. She began to write some things down. Probably some of the game’s natural rules. “So, kissing? Do we all agree on that?”

Stan thought kissing was fine. He didn’t see any problem with it, but as he looked around the room the number of guys made him a bit anxious. He didn’t want to kiss any of them, especially Cartman. The thought alone made him nauseous, and not in a good way.

“No,” Craig spoke up. “We don't agree.”

“Oh, come on, Craig. Don't be a big baby.”

“Nobody is kissing me or Tweek.”

Red groaned. “It's not like we're going to know who is who.”

“I don't care.”

“Ngh, I don't mind,” Tweek said, meekly. Everybody looked at him with surprise. He noticed this and tried not to look at anyone. “It won't mean anything to me because,” he looked towards Craig, “I only love you.”

The girls all ‘awwww’ed’ at the scene.

Craig closed his eyes for a moment before sighing. “Fine, only because Tweek is fine with it.”

Red gave a small pump of her arm in triumph. “Cool, now what about certain groping?” Everyone gave a different reaction. She sighed before saying, “Are we gonna see some dick and puss or not?”

“I'd honestly rather not anybody touch or see my dick,” Stan admitted.

“I wouldn't.”

“We know you wouldn't, Kenny.”

“How about just boobs?” Red was trying to compromise.

“Guys don't have boobs, Red,” Kyle said.

“Yes, they do. They're just usually flat-chested.”

Kenny snickered and elbowed Stan's side. “Unlike Mr. Double D over there.” He jerked his thumb towards Cartman, which made Stan and Kyle laugh.

“Hey! The fuck you say, Kinny?”

Kenny waved him off. “Nothing, fatass.”

“I don't mind,” Bebe spoke up. “What about you, Wends?”

She shrugged. “I'd rather not show them, though.”

This made Stan clench his jaw. He tried to swallow his jealousy with a sip of his beer. He wasn’t with her anymore. Why should he care that everybody else had the possibility of touching her?

“Okay, okay,” Red turned to Nichole. “What about you, Nichole?”

She looked at Tolkien. “If you're cool with it, I don't mind.”

Tolkien shrugged. “It's your body, babe.”

Nichole gave a half shrug. “Then I guess my breasts are on the line too.”

“Okay! Is there anything else anybody would be uncomfortable with?” Red asked. Everybody was silent. “Remember, the king’s orders are absolute.” Nobody answered. “Alright, let’s get it started!” She picked up the red solo cup and began to shake up the sticks before picking out a stick.

That was how the game began. Everything started out slow, each one slowing growing with each passing dare:

Wendy asked for four (Butters) to give her a well-thorough massage.

Craig told three (Clyde) to call City Wok and order a pizza on speaker.

Nichole told one (Bebe) and eleven (Kyle) to switch clothing for the rest of the night, save for underwear. This one made Stan laugh at his red-faced friend.

Butters made ten (Craig) eat a banana while dipping it in mayo.

When Bebe got a turn as the king, she insisted on turning it up a notch and dared eight (Tolkien) to give seven (Cartman) a lap dance.

Craig made seven (Stan) go around the room and smell everyone’s armpits. If Stan thought he hated Craig before, he absolutely despised him now. Red made three (Bebe) color in a tooth of hers black so it would look like she was missing it.

Then Cartman had gotten his first turn as the king:

“Who is the-”

“I want eight to fondle one’s boobs for two minutes.” Cartman didn’t let the rest of the group finish the sentence before spitting out an order.

“Gah! I have to what?” Everyone looked over at Tweek who had wide eyes.

“Did I stutter?”

Tweek glared at Cartman while he made a noise that sounded like a dying animal.

A sigh came from Wendy as she loudly placed down her stick. “Come here, Tweek, let’s just get this over with.”

Tweek slowly slid himself off his seat and made his way to sit beside Wendy. He held his hands up, preparing himself as Wendy unzipped her coat.

“Okay, ready?” Nichole asked with a timer ready in hand. The two nodded. “Alright, go.”

Tweek immediately cupped her breasts, now red in the face.

Stan felt his body become hot with jealousy. He tried to force himself to look away from the two, but he couldn’t.

“Oh, your boobs are nice, Wendy,” Tweek commented.

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“Careful, Tweek. They still might have some silicone in there,” Bebe joked, earning a smack in the arm from Wendy.

After an agonizingly long two minutes, their time was up. Stan knew that he would have nothing to worry about with Tweek, But he could help but glare at him as he made his way back to his seat besides Craig.

Everyone returned the sticks and continued the game.

Clyde kept on complaining about needing to use the bathroom, so Tolkien took the liberty as king to have twelve (Kenny) and four (Bebe) watch him.

Wendy told two (Cartman) to reveal his search history to everyone.

Nichole had seven (Craig) and thirteen (Kyle) make out for a minute.

Kenny told nine (Clyde) to drink a whole bottle of hot sauce and not drink anything for the rest of the night.

Then Tweek got a turn as the king:

“Gah! I’m the king? No way, man, this is too much pressure!” Tweek tried shoving the stick into Craig’s hand. “You do it, Craig.”

“Honey, that’s not how the game works.” He placed his hand on his thigh. “Just think of something stupid or make someone do something you want to do, like have them make a coffee for you,” Craig suggested to him.

Tweek was gnawing at his bottom lip. “Uh, well, three and five!”

“Yes? Three and five, what?”

“Ungh… three has to,” he began to tug at his hair and Craig moved to rub his back gently. “Three has to lick peanut butter off of five’s stomach.”

Kenny clasped his hands together and laughed. “Oh my God, Tweek.”

“W-what?” He screeched, his shaking now more obvious.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Ah, geez,” Butters stood up, “I know it’s the rules and I gotta do it.”

“Ah, Butters!” Red began taking everything off the coffee table to make space. She patted on the middle of the table. “Lay right here. We gotta get the perfect view.”

“Oh, hamburgers… Do I have to?” He asked as he began to rub his fists together.

“Would you rather stand while…” Bebe began to look around. “Hey, who is doing it?”

Stan stayed quiet. Maybe if he didn’t move or say anything, Kenny would offer to take the spot. Or maybe even Cartman. He always had a weird thing for Butters and Kyle.

“Stan, you can’t just pretend you don’t have the stick.” Of course, fucking Kyle couldn't leave him be.

Stan groaned before setting down his drink and standing up. “Fine, let’s just get this over with.”

Tolkien stood up along with him. “I'll go get some peanut butter.” He told the group as he disappeared up the stairs.

Bebe and Red were giggling loudly at Butters slowly lying himself on the table - his head towards Cartman and his legs towards Tweek and Craig

Stan moved to sit next to Red who was sitting by Butters right, but she stopped him. “No way, Stan. You gotta get him at a better angle.” Stan knew that Red was just trying to sexualize the dare. He just rolled his eyes and moved to be in front of Butters’ legs to satiate her.

Tolkien came back to the basement with the jar of peanut butter and a large spoon. “Here you go.” He held them out to Stan, but Kenny swooped in and grabbed them instead.

“Dude, come on.”

“No way, man. Knowing Stan, he'll probably just put a little bit to get it over with. We gotta make sure it's worth it.” Kenny began to unscrew the cap and dipped the spoon in to get some of its contents on the back of the spoon. He kneeled beside Red and held the spoon over Butters’ stomach. “You ready, Butters?”

He shrugged. “Ready as I'll ever be, I guess.”

Kenny lowered the spoon and began to coat Butters’ stomach with peanut butter. It was a lot more than Stan would've liked, but that was the point. Kenny stopped and Stan watched with narrowed eyes as he dunked the spoon back in to cover his stomach even more.

Kenny was way too giddy for Stan’s taste about this entire situation. He could tell by his eyes that he was smiling big underneath his parka. “Kenny, you’re acting like you’re the one doing this,” Stan told him.

His eyes flickered up to meet Stan’s. “I wish.” Stan didn’t know whether he wished to be Butters or him, but he didn’t want to know. He started to smear even more on Butters’ stomach and Stan was sure he was doing this to get under his skin. “But since you’re the one doing it,” He finished up, sticking the spoon in his mouth as he closed the jar. He clapped his shoulder as he stood up. “Why don’t you show us your skills?”

“Of licking peanut butter? Right.”

“Well, don’t just lick it up,” Craig said in his usual monotone tone. Stan didn’t need to turn around to see the stupid smirk on his face.

“Good thing you aren’t the king then.”

“Ah, well, don’t just lick it up, Stan.” Stan really wanted to murder Craig for putting the idea into his boyfriend’s head. “A-and you have to clean it all. Nothing left behind.” Oh, how Stan hated them both.

He clenched his jaw as he grabbed Butters from behind his knees to pull him closer to the edge so he wouldn't have to hover over him too much. He grimaced, seeing how he was in between the blonde’s legs now.

A chorus of wolf whistles filled the room after he did this.

He sighed before leaning down over the blonde and licking at his stomach, trying to lick as much peanut butter off as he could to end this as quickly as he could.

“Oh,” Butters giggled. “That tickles!” He began to squirm as he continued to laugh.

Stan rolled his eyes. He placed his hands on his hips, holding him firmly down so he could stop moving. This made the laughing and movement stop. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing - on who he was doing it to.

He hated everything about this. He hated everyone cheering him on. He hated looking up for a moment and seeing Butters face, how red he was. He hated seeing Wendy giggle with Bebe as he continued with his work.

“Oh~! Stan,” Red nudged him when he finished, “you’re still single, right?”

Bebe laughed at this. “Oh my God, Red.”

Stan just ignored her and rolled his eyes. “In Tolkien’s words: ‘I swear to God, if any of you let anybody know out of this room, I will kill you,’” He told the group as he stood up. He picked up his beer and threw himself back onto the couch.

And the game continued once again.

Jimmy told twelve (Red) to call a random number and sing "Happy Birthday" to the first person to pick up.

Stan even had nine (Tweek) strip down to their underwear and sit in four’s (Kenny) lap until whoever had twelve (Nichole) was king. Stan felt proud of himself for that one. He considered it as revenge for earlier.

The game kept on going and going until the teens finally got tired of it.

“Can we just go home now?” Kyle motioned to himself. “I’m tired of wearing these clothes.”

“Aw~, but you look so cute in them, Kyle,” Bebe teased.

“Oh, come on!” Clyde moaned. “Just one more round. I haven’t even been the king yet.” His face was still glowing red from the hot sauce.

“Fine, fine,” Bebe spoke up. “Let’s all do one more round, then we can go.”

“Yeah, whoever’s king better give us something really juicy,” Red agreed as she grabbed the cup from the table. She shook the cup around to mix up the sticks before picking one for herself again. She then passed the cup to Nichole and so on.

Stan watched the cup get passed around the group before it finally reached him. He stared down at the cup in Kenny’s hand. Chugged down the rest of his beer, he blindly grabbed a stick for himself. He stared it down as if the stick itself had wronged him. The number ‘4’ stared back at him. He glanced over at Kyle, but he only hid the stick.

“Okay,” Red started. “Three, two, one…”

Everybody in unison, “Who is the-”

“Me, me! I am!” Cartman shouted. “I’m the king! I’m the final king, ha ha ha ha haa ha!” He let out a loud laugh that immediately irked Stan. He knew this was a bad idea. Cartman reached over and grabbed his bag from behind Butters, hitting him in the back of the head in the process. He began to rummage through the bag, mumbling to himself.

“Fuck,” Kyle muttered. “Let’s just get this over with, fatass.”

Stan let his eyes wander back to Wendy as the two began their usual bicker. She met his gaze for a moment and Stan smiled, but it quickly faltered when she looked away from him. His throat felt dry. He lifted up his bottle for another sip and felt stupid when he realized it was empty. He looked back at Cartman to see him slam down a notebook.

“I have been planning for this day. To have the authorit-ah to have you guys do what I want with you guys. And none of you can reverse it.” Cartman was watching everybody carefully. “There will be six of you. I am going to pair you up and each pair must,” he glanced at Kyle. “must date the person for a month.”

Kyle scoffed and Stan made it necessary to elbow him in the side to prevent him from making it worse. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He tried not to look at Wendy. He couldn’t look too hopeful.

“And I mean date,” Cartman continued. “Holding hands, kissing,” He leaned forward wiggling his eyebrows. “Sex!”

“I-if I didn’t know better, I w-would- I would have th-thought you turned into K-K-Kenny,” Jimmy jokes. Kenny was the only one who laughed. “Wow, what a great audience.”

Everyone was tense. Of course, Eric Cartman would try to do anything to get under their skins. Especially Kyle’s. He hadn’t even said any numbers yet and Stan could practically feel him fuming from his right.

“So!” He clasped his hands. “Who should it be? Hmm, yes, I see…” He looked at them all again. “I want four and seven, six and,” he made a face. “Thirteen, and for the sake of luck for our two love birds,” He gave a pointed look towards Craig and Tweek. “Eleven and twelve.”

The room was silent aside from Tweek’s sudden yelp, making it obvious that his number was picked. Stan stared back down at his number. ‘4’ He was chosen by Cartman. He hoped that the universe was somehow on his side and made Wendy as ‘7.’ That way, she could see how they should actually get back together. It could be his chance.

“This is fucking ridiculous!” Kyle spoke up and Stan knew things were going to go downhill. “I am not doing that! I have way better things to do than this stupid dare,” he exclaimed.

“Oh, but he’s the king,” Butters spoke up. “And whatever the king says is a-absolute.”

“Thank you, Butters.”

“Oh, fuck that! I don’t give a shit if he’s the king!” Kyle’s face was now aflame with anger. He really didn’t want to do this. Stan didn’t understand why. It was just a month. All he had to do was shut his mouth and entertain Cartman, but then again, nothing was easy with Kyle.

“Well, since Kyle clearly has a problem with it,” He reached forward to grab the notebook he had pulled out as he continued. “Make it two months.”

“This is stupid-”

“And as Butters said, I am the king, therefore, anything I say goes.” He began to flip through the notebook. “Ah, yes, here we are.” He flipped the notebook over to show the group its contents. A picture of Kyle was evident on one side of the page and writing was on the other side.

“W-what is it?” Tweek asked.

“Don’t egg him on, babe.”

“Thank you for asking, Tweek!” Cartman cleared his throat and began to read:

In any instance of a game of dares, if Kyle “Stupid Jew” Broflovski chooses to refuse the dare the following will be punishment for him:

Revealing a secret

Send his brother back to Canada

Ruin any chances he has of getting a girlfriend or getting into whatever college he wants to go to for 4 months

And-

“I really don’t give a shit, Cartman. It’s not like you’re going to do all that anyway. You’re bluffing.”

“I’d rather not do this either,” Craig spoke up. “And your ‘luck’ didn’t even pair me with Tweek. I’m not going to date anybody else.”

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Of course, you two are against it. Only thinking of yourselves.” The two boys began to protest, but he only ignored them. “If Kahl let me finish, you would all know that both people will be receiving punishment. It doesn’t matter if one of them still wants to go with the dare. Both must work together.” He intertwined his fingers, making Stan roll his eyes.

Stan heard Nichole suck air through her teeth. “Yikes.”

“So,” Cartman wore a wicked smirk on his face. “Who is going to do my bidding?”

Stan sighed. Might as well get it over with and know who he was going to ‘date’ for two months. “I got four.”

Everybody was silent. They all looked at one another, expecting someone to speak up to partner up with him. It took another beat of silence before someone finally did.

“Ah, geez. I got seven.” Stan felt his body run cold with dread and he wished he had never come at all. It wasn’t Wendy who spoke up. “I guess we’ll be stuck together for a while. Huh, Stan?”

It was Butters.

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