Do You Even Care? / STYLE SOUTHPARK

☆Chapter 29☆

WARNING: this is not like ... smut, but they do have a kinda intense make out session and there are some implications.

If you aren't comfortable with that, apologies, and feel free to skip from the part where you see this: /...

to the part where you see this: ...\

...Kyle's POV...

It's finally the day. After what seems like ages all the days have melted away and its final the day of the festival.

I look out my window, sighing as everything flies by. We've been driving nearly 2 hours now and should be there soon but I can feel myself starting to get restless.

The GPS directs us off the highway and I nearly scream as Stan jerks the wheel to make our turn after almost missing it. But then we both laugh hysterically.

"Since we have a while until it starts do you wanna get some food?" Stan asks me.

"Always do, where at?" I reply with a playful grin.

"Well we have options. We could do Taco Bell or McDonald's?"

Do I feel like fighting for my life on the toilet later? ... not really. "You cool with McDonald's?" I ask.

He nods and then jerks the wheel again to make the turn. We laugh again.

"Dude, you're a terrible driver," I say through laughs.

"Shut up," he laughs.

"You wish," I shoot back.

This time he slows down and makes a more graceful turn into the McDonalds parking lot. We order a shit ton of food, although this is probably just a normal meal for Cartman.

We get back in the car and Stan hands me the bag. I fold over the top to keep the warmth in as he drives.

Eventually we get there, and he pulls up against a curb. I open the bag pass out food, I set the fries between us. We eat very quickly, like I think we may have unhinged our jaws to shove food down our throats.

/...

"So I think we still have a little bit until the gates open," Stan comments.

I check my phone, "yeah, we do."

We sit for a while quietly. It's just starting to get dark outside, the suns half set, and the moon is starting to become more visible. The purples in the sky are more prominent and it's all strikingly beautiful. I can't help but stare. I open my camera and take a photo of it. Then I take a photo of Stan looking at it. He grins when he notices.

"Hey!" he hisses playfully, reaching for my phone.

I hold the phone up above my head and he's practically on top of me trying to get it, which I don't mind at all. He manages to grab it but rather than delete it or even look at the photo he just kisses me. He sets the phone down on the dash.

It's gentle at first. Then it grows. It grows rapidly like a fire, and when we pull apart my face is burning like one. We both gasp for air. This time I close the space and our lips crash together. I hear Stan groan a little into the kiss. Smoothly, I move down to kiss his neck. He tilts his head back and grabs at my shoulder.

"Wa- wait," he stutters, breath heavy. I stop, looking at him, and breathing heavy.

"Back seat?" He asks.

I nod vigorously. We scramble to the back, and in a flash we're all over eachother. Him under me. I lean down, our lips crashing again.

As we pull apart to breathe, Stan slips his shirt off, and I take a moment to admire before slipping mine off. He stares, chest heaving with each breath.

"Like the view?" I tease.

He grins, sitting up a little. "It's not bad," he teases.

I roll my eyes, lending back down to press gentle kissed on his neck and collar bones. I slowly let them get more intense and I feel Stan buck his hips slightly into me. 

I groan slightly, then I pause.

"Sorry, too much?" he pants.

I shake my head, "No, no"

We continue to make out for a while, and I start to grind on him a little. I pull away gasping, "Fuck— we should go soon."

He pulls me back into a kiss, biting my lip harshly, and kissing me like it was the last time he'd see me.

"Do you even care about the festival?" He asks, hand on the button of my jeans.

"Do you?"

He grins, undoing the button. "No."

.../

Afterwards, we both lay exhausted, in our jeans and shirtless again. I watch him, leaned against the door, eyes vaguely glassy, hair a wreck. He looks up, and our tired eyes meet.

"Stan?" I whisper.

"Yeah?" He responds, equally quiet.

"I think I'm in love with you," I tell him. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and the bass of the nearby festival in my bones as I say it.

It hits me the, how unreal this all feels. Not that long ago, I was wondering if he even cared about me. Now after... that I'd say he does, with no doubts.

I didn't know it was possible for something to feel so right — for one moment to show you how you want forver to feel. It's true that this could all end terribly — maybe we'll both end up heart broken. But I'm glad I cared enough to give it a try. To feel something this deeply is to know you're alive.

I watch as his eyes as they smile before his lips, "That's good because I think I'm in love with you too."