Chapter Text
The Halloween parties that Token threw each October were no joke. They started in high school, and they only got better once they reached adulthood. If anyone had the resources to continuously throw a bombass party, it was Token, and truly, he went all out: strobe lights and dry ice, a DJ, more drinks and food than anyone could possibly eat. And truly, the entire estate was decked out in so many decorations--all of them convincing -- upon appraisal some of them were reminiscent of horror film props.
Anyone who was anyone attended -- and granted, there were a few years where Kyle didn't attend, being off elsewhere for school. But there was no excuse this year; he'd had all the degrees he wanted under his belt. It was just a matter of finding a job and that just took time--and until that was acquired, he was back home.
There were pros and cons, but one of the pros was being able to relive some of the glory days, and attend parties like this. He and Kenny planned their outfits out together, and having had plenty of time to plan and prepare, their costumes actually looked convincing.
Granted, it wasn't like there was much to their outfits. The clothes themselves were easily found in a thrift store. The masks, the fake knife gloves and fake machete all came from Amazon. But they looked good. They weren't the only ones dressed up; everyone was in a costume of some kind--it was just a matter of how much effort was put into it. Some were extremely well-done. Certain others included a piece of paper taped to shirts that just read 'costume.'
Regardless, it was a good party. For the most part, Kyle mingled with Kenny and their friends, but at some point they drifted. There were various activities that Kyle got caught up in, and he pointedly ignored Kenny wandering off to one of the dark corners of the estate with Tweek. Kenny would return with a little more cash in his pocket, but Kyle wasn't holding his breath for when that was happening.
In a certain way, it was his own fault that his boyfriend managed to sneak up on him while he was fixing himself a drink. It was just a hand on the small of his back, but that alone was enough to cause the redhead to jump in tandem with a rather embarrassing sound.
The reaction drew a muffled chuckle from behind Kenny's hockey mask. "Why are you screaming? I haven't even caught you yet."
Immediately, Kyle turned on his heel to face him properly, already huffy. Even with his face covered as it was, it was completely obvious in the way he crossed his arms, and his overall demeanor. " Dude! That's my line. Jason doesn't even talk, you can't do that!"
“Whatever. Oh, sorry. I talked again, my bad.” Kenny laughed, and lifted up his hockey mask for just a moment to take a swig of his PBR. “I just sold a gram to Tweek so pretty sure shit’s about to get crazy.” Judging the way Kyle’s shoulders relaxed, he was glad to get a glimpse of Kenny’s real face, as sweaty as it was from wearing that costume all night. “Anyway, I was thinking— ” he flipped his mask down again — “I was thinking that maybe we should go check out the upstairs. Maybe hijack the home theatre or somethin’. Maybe watch the second Nightmare.”
“What the hell, no! Nightmare on Elm Street 2 is the worst one! ” Kyle exclaimed, indignantly. “If we’re going to do that at all, it has to be Dream Warriors, dude.” Kyle’s voice was annoyed even underneath his Freddy Krueger mask, and the fake-knife-gloves covering his hands clicked against the table as he snatched whatever fruity-looking drink he’d fixed himself.
“Yeah, well, Freddy’s Revenge is the gay one, you like that shit,” Kenny laughed. “But really, Kyle, I’m bored! ”
“How the hell can you be bored! It’s a good party.”
“Just am.” Kenny leaned toward his boyfriend and gave the front of his striped sweater a tug, pulling him closer. Truthfully, Kenny wasn’t bored at all, but he’d drank maybe five or so tall boys and a couple shots, and alcohol always had the side-effect of making him horny as fuck. “How about Freddy vs. Jason, then?” he asked, too innocently to mean anything other than what he’d intended.
Kyle made a point of trying to be annoyed with the suggestion that he clearly understood. Despite that, he glanced over his shoulder as if to see if anyone was paying attention to them or otherwise overheard their conversation. It was pointless to do, ultimately, as the music was loud and the lights everywhere were dim at best.
No one would notice or care of they wandered away from the heart of the party, and with that in mind, Kyle hardly had a reason to object. He tugged his suffocating mask up from the neck, letting it rest on his the top of his head. He was red in the face and sweaty, so this was as good a moment as any to cool off some while he drank.
"Fine, but if it's lame, I'm walking out." Said as if he hadn't seen the film before, said as if either of them planned to pay much attention to the film at all.
"Don't you worry your sweet ass about it, bay-bee," Kenny responded, leaning in close as he wrapped an arm around Kyle, tucking his hand into one of Kyle's back pockets. It was a great ass; he loved that ass and would eat it until the sun rose if Kyle would let him.
"Whatever." Having drank enough for now, Kyle tugged the mask back down and threw an arm over Kenny's shoulder as he headed toward the stairs, drink still in hand.
"Your hair is all fucked up," Kenny tossed out, stating the obvious and finding it much funnier than it should've been. "The mask is fuckin'... it's staying on, baby," he managed to get out between chuckles.
Kyle had this thing where nobody ever knew he was drunk until it hit hard enough for him to either start a fight, or do something entirely un-Kyle, like a keg stand, or karaoke, or that one time he drunk-texted his mother, of all people, just to say I love you. Christ, was that ever a night.
But, over the years, Kenny'd developed an ability to notice the little tells that meant Kyle was getting there. There was how red he got in the face, which might not be a good indicator right now, being that it was covered. But there was also the little spring in his step that normally wasn't there, and the way he'd unabashedly drape himself upon Kenny, clinging onto his boyfriend like he would fly off the edge of the universe if they weren't joined off the hip. And both were happening in spades right then.
This was gonna be fun.
They traversed through the upper hallway of Token's family estate, opening doors on the way and finding the gym, where Cartman and Butters were exchanged in some heated discussion about whatever pyramid scheme the former had roped the latter into that month (they'd closed the door about as soon as they'd opened it on that one), an empty guest room with everyone's coat piled on the bed, a couple bathrooms, and then, finally, the Blacks' home theatre. It was, mercifully, empty.
Kyle pulled away from Kenny in favor of assessing the collection of DVD and Blu-ray disks that filled shelf upon shelf in the back of the room. Fortunately, the films were not only organized by genre, but alphabetically as well. "It's like they have every major film that was produced in the last thirty years."
"Because they're fuckin' loaded. Did I ever tell you how much of a big tipper Miz Black is?" Kenny leaned against the shelf, watching Kyle bend over while peering at the films, before finally procuring the right one. Kyle didn't respond to the comment, so Kenny opted to keep talking. "Yanno, I can't wait for you to claw me up with those knives."
Kyle immediately looked in Kenny's direction as he straightened. Shaking his head, he made his way to the Blu-ray player to get everything set up. "They're plastic and flimsy. You're shit out of luck, Ken."
"Shame," Kenny stated, grinning underneath his hockey mask, "And it's gonna be a damn shame if this door doesn't lock, because--" Kenny paused to examine the handle, and, upon noticing that it did, twisted the lock and wiggled the handle to make sure that it worked. "So it does. Shall I dim the lights, my good sir?"
Kyle laughed, muffled, as he fiddled with the controls of the sound system, ensuring it was at exactly the right level. "Dude. Aren't we supposed to be, I don't know, villains? Who are against each other, or something? Why are you talking like that, you're being stupid and not at all scary."
Oh. Oh, was he? Kenny took that as a challenge and, especially when it was from his boyfriend, Kenny loved a challenge. Kyle couldn't see the way his eyes narrowed or his brows wiggled under his mask, but it didn't quite matter because Kenny took that moment to shut off all of the lights and, while Kyle made himself comfortable in one of the reclining, leather seats and clicked through the menus, Kenny silently, wordlessly made his way across the room.
Despite his hidden face, Kyle still looked way too content, too relaxed. There was enough room between rows of chairs that Kenny was able to sneak up behind him and, unspeaking, sneak his arm around to the front. Firmly, but nowhere near hard enough for it to actually hurt, he wrapped a gloved hand around Kyle's neck, noticing that his mask was peeling a bit at the edges.
"What the hell, Ken!"
Kyle wanted scary , didn't he? Kenny made a point of making his laugh sound particularly menacing. How could he resist? Kyle's outbursts made it worthwhile. The movie was already starting, though, and with nothing else to distract Kyle--particularly after that --the other man reached back and attempted to tug Kenny over the chair.
It wasn't the right position for Kyle to get any sort of leverage, but Kenny was more than happy to help him along, intentionally toppling over the back, landing in Kyle's lap. Kyle groaned in response, shoving Kenny off of him, right onto the floor.
"Pay attention to the movie, ar-tard." His vision was somewhat obscured by the mask, but Kyle pointedly turned his attention to the screen, tucking his legs onto the chair.
Kenny had absolutely zero intention of paying attention to the movie since, between the copious amounts of alcohol he’d ingested, and watching Kyle's sweet, sweet ass all night, all that was on his mind was getting his hands on said sweet, sweet ass, and seeing if he could keep both of them as in character as possible as they did it. Kyle was probably doomed to just act like Kyle-with-a-mask-on, but Kenny was certainly no stranger to masks, and pretending to be someone he wasn't, and all that jazz, what with his side gig and all.
It may have been unfortunate for the residents of South Park, but Kenny was quite glad that he was off-duty tonight.
Shifting his posture so that his back was as straight as possible, Kenny turned around and, wordlessly, stared up at Kyle through the holes in his eyes. Following what he'd seen his costume's namesake do on screen, he silently, slowly tipped his head to one side, then another.
Even with his attention mostly on the screen, it was difficult to ignore Kenny watching him like that. Kyle could feel his eyes on him, and were it anyone but his boyfriend it would've brought unease and discomfort--
Well, scratch that. It was kind of freaky to have anyone staring at him in that hockey mask. But Kyle didn't scare easily, and after a moment, he leaned down pressed his palm against the hockey mask, shoving Kenny back.
The intent was to just push him onto his back, but Kenny's reflexes were quicker than Kyle's, for good reason. Immediately, his hand shot up, grabbing Kyle by the elbow, tugging him onto the floor too.
Although Kyle thrashed against him and Kenny, at first, ended up pressing his boyfriend against the tucked-in footrest of the theater-style chair, blankly staring at his... well, not his face, but close enough, and after a few moments of not-too-rough struggling, he allowed Kyle to break away, and flip their positions.
“I’m your boyfriend now, Nancy!” Kyle said, clearly unable to keep his small snort of a laugh inside.
“Out of all the quotes,” Kenny said, “You had to pick the most overused and—“
“Shut the fuck up. You’re not supposed to talk.” Kyle had him pinned in a straddle. And, to add to how fucking awesome that was, his boyfriend had a boner.
Score.
Kenny's hands settled on Kyle's hips, holding him in place as he jerked his own up. The friction generated was teasing at best, but it was better when Kyle rocked against him as well. And when Kyle reached forward, letting those fake knives brush against his neck, Kenny swore he could've gotten off right then and there, just over the idea of what could've been.
He didn't, though, because he was never one to let a good boner go to waste. Teasingly, he squeezed Kyle's dick through his pants before abruptly upturning his fiery boyfriend.
Kyle made some unintelligible sound as he landed on his back, immediately shoving back at Kenny in an attempt to keep him from getting the upper hand in their impromptu roughhousing.
Although Kenny contemplated allowing his boyfriend to come out on top, it was just too easy to win this time. Kyle’s stupidly hot knife-gloves worked against him in that he couldn’t get a good grip on Kenny to overturn him again, and, after a good few minutes of heated, struggled rutting against each other, Kenny was draped atop his boyfriend, having securely fastened his wrists over his head.
Victory.
"This doesn't mean anything," Kyle scoffed, words muffled behind his mask. He tested his wrists against Kenny's grip, and though he could've easily gotten out of Kenny's grip if he really wanted to, that wasn't the game they were playing. Kyle knew that. Kenny knew that.
Kenny laughed, otherwise attempting not to break character. He slipped his free hand between them, feeling Kyle up through his pants. That only lasted so long before he was deftly unfastening the button and zipper single-handedly, fist plunging between those layers of fabric, and wrapping around Kyle's dick.
He was relentless in jerking him off; Kenny knew just how to touch Kyle, he knew just how to brush his thumb over the tip, just how to dip his fingers down to play with his balls, knew how to touch him in the ways that drove Kyle wild.
Between the film blaring screeching music and screams of whoever was getting stabbed on screen, and the commotion of the party downstairs, there was no possible way Kyle's sudden, loud moan upon Kenny ever-so-lightly tugging on his heavy, velvety balls could be held outside this room. Still, Kenny released Kyle's wrists for a moment and, when the other didn't jump and fight back, firmly clamped his palm over Kyle's mouth.
Well. The mouth of his mask, at least.
Leaning down, he brought the hard plastic of his hockey mask next to where Kyle's ear should be, breathing ragged and hot onto the area. Underneath him, Kyle's hips were meeting his every tug and stroke with a tandem thrust, bucking upwards into Kenny's hand with reckless abandon.
Kyle's breathing was becoming ragged from arousal, but it was only exacerbated by the mask obstructing his regular breathing. But he still didn't take off the mask; he didn't want to take it off. He was too into this.
He fumbled with Kenny's pants, intent on stroking Kenny off too. Kyle tugged Kenny's pants down just enough, and once he got his hand around his dick, he stroked vigorously. At some point, Kenny took both of their cocks into his hand, jerking them off in tandem.
The friction was even better this way. It left Kyle a writhing mess beneath Kenny and he was living for it.
Kenny whipped off his remaining glove, tossing it somewhere in the room, it didn't matter where because the delicious friction of their cocks sliding together, Kyle's dripping ample precome from the tip which only served to make this feel so much fucking better, was all that occupied Kenny's mind. Not the movie, not what could be happening at the party, not what he could have been experiencing had he worked tonight -- nothing except him, and the man twitching and shivering and moaning beneath him.
Kyle was close; Kenny knew it, because he always arched his back and clutched whichever part of Kenny's body he could grab hold of when on the brink of orgasm and that's what he was doing, those fake, plastic knives jabbing into Kenny's lower back as Kyle twisted his jacket tight in his fist. "Fuck," Kyle panted, muffled, "Gonna come if you keep it up, don't you dare stop."
Luckily for Kyle, Kenny had no intentions of stopping. Rather, he used his free hand to lift up his mask for a second, spit in his palm, and return to his ministrations with renewed fervor.
That was better. Kenny's hand was slick with the added spit, and his hand moved more smoothly over their dicks. The sounds that Kyle made under his mask were hot , and though they echoed his own, Kenny was determined to draw more sounds out of him.
"Just like that, just like that, Ken--"
But that was the wrong name, and Kyle was aware of his mistake the moment Kenny's hand stilled. Kyle groaned , because of course Kenny still wanted to play this game even when they were caught up in the moment like this. "Jason," he amended.
That was the magic word, so to speak, and Kenny was back at it with renewed vigor. Kyle's hips bucked, his head tilting back as he found his release.
Kenny couldn't help but snicker when he noticed that Kyle shot his load all over his Freddy Krueger sweater, thinking of how affronted his boyfriend would be when he finally realized -- not that Kenny was going to tell him, because what would be the fun in that? Still, seeing Kyle's body seize, twitch, and then go limp as his orgasm washed over him was sexy as fuck, and as Kenny pumped a tight fist around his own cock, he knew it was close, so close for him, too.
With a low moan, he reached down and grabbed one of Kyle's hands, guiding it to his dick. Kyle caught on right away, jerking him as hard and fast as he could, given the knife-hands. The friction of the leather glove on his aching cock was more than Kenny could handle. Electric warmth jolted through him, spreading through his stomach, his legs, all the way down to the tips of his toes, which curled in his work boots. Letting out a shout, Kenny caught his own orgasm in the palm of his hand.
This wasn't the weirdest encounter that they'd ever had, but as Kyle laid there, trying to catch his breath, he determined that it was definitely up there in the top five. Maybe the top three. But fuck , it had been hot.
After a moment, he took off his mask, and it felt like a goddamn relief to have the cool air against his sweaty skin. "We should... we should revisit this later."
Before Kenny had a chance to respond, the telltale signs of the doorknob jiggling, followed by banging on the locked door distracted him from his thoughts. The only reason it was even audible was because of a lull in the movie, and it was only a matter of seconds before it was obvious who was on the other side.
"There's a TV in there? Sweet . AY. Open the door and clear out! I gotta take a shit!"
Kyle was immediately sitting up, glaring at the door. "This isn't the bathroom, Fatass!"
Moment ruined.