Elysian Fields (A Kyman Fanfiction)

Chapter 13: Pure Morning

His ghost pale erect member escapes his pants and he breathily whispers at me, "I never wear boxers," and smirks. He's so fucking hot. My hands trace the fleshy length and my own reacts within my jeans, twitching and aching against the denim.

He starts to nibble my neck, trailing to my exposed collarbone as my hands attempt to remember their bearings and treat this perfect specimen like a king. I release a giggle when he pulls my waist forward and unhooks my belt, yanking my pants down. He's kissing me again and he's warm, damp, and delicious. The sable-haired teen yanks me lovingly toward the wall next to the sink, and my back revels in the cold, slick texture of the tile versus the warm softness of his fingers. I move my hands faster and grip him gently, and he responds by smiling into my mouth and moaning.

A bright light exposes the carnal beauty of our situation and we both pause a second too late, both my hands around his hardness and his beginning to find mine. We blink and turn into the light, not quite letting go of each other.

"What the fuck, man?" Pete growls angrily. I'm squinting into the brightness.

"My bad," Cartman's voice says, insincerity tingeing his pseudo apology. "Next time, lock the door."

And so he shuts it. Pete is already rushing to button his pants and I'm left with mine around my ankles, a bit too stunned to move. He glances at me through his long fringe bangs, our pure darkness disturbed. "Hey... we should do this again. Just not here." He smiles. God he's sexy.

I nod, "Yeah that sounds good."

"So uh..." he runs his fingers through his bangs and pulls out his phone, the small blue light letting me see his sincere eyes. "Can I get your number?"

/\/\/\

"The party was awesome Stan," Token says, holding out a fist.

"Thanks dude, but it was more my sister's than mine," Stan replies from his spot on the front step, returning Token's gesture with a pound and lock of his own. Wendy sits on his lap, her long river of hair catching with the more complicated bits of his cheap plastic costume.

"I'm glad we finally had a chance to talk," I say to Pete. He exhales his smoke through his nostrils like a black dragon and smiles.

"Me too," he says earnestly, turning the corners of his lips up in a very small smile and holding a clove out for me. "To remember me by, until next time."

I accept the clove and he turns around. "Bye," I call as the goth kid joins his friends. They blend into the darkness of the three am street and vanish, like true children of the night. I'm mildly embarrassed our rendezvous had to end the way it did, exposed and open, but also thrilled he wants to see me again. Very thrilled. But mostly angry at the reason my balls had to remain blue.

Some of Shelley's more industrious friends continue on inside, bobbing for apples and screaming karaoke, but the knowledge of the coming dawn dissuaded most as they were slumping and leaning all over each other on their way out.

"Hey, not on the lawn!" Stan says, moving Wendy from his lap onto her own brick stoop spot as he rushes over to the vomiting frat boy. She watches him affectionately, and I am eternally grateful they worked out only so I wouldn't have to hear him bitching again. And again.

I pull off the sparkly devil horned headband I had adorned myself with and toss it into the street. The warm tingling of liquor had already left an hour ago when I was just chilling with Pete, so I debate drinking another beer before heading home.

"Bebe—wait!"

The blonde bouncy girl with the blonde bouncy breasts, dressed as Marilyn Monroe, walks out of the shadows of the Marsh's residence, stomping and crossing her arms. "No, Kenny."