· Stan Marsh ₍₀₁₎

The back-to-semester party was in full swing. Neon lights flashed above the crowd of drunken students, electronic music thumped, and the smell of cheap beer and weed smoke filled the air of the student center's large hall.

Stan had already drunk too much; he was drunk. He knew this because the floor felt soft, and that definitely wasn't normal for cheap linoleum. He also knew this because he'd lost Kyle forty minutes ago, and instead of looking for him, he was leaning against a column, staring at the overhead lights as if they were about to tell him something important.

He tried to take another sip from his glass, discovered it was empty, and had the brilliant idea of ​​moving away from the column to get more. The result was that he nearly fell flat on his face as soon as his feet decided to give out.

That's when he saw it.

Or rather, that's when someone caught him by the arm with a firm hand before the linoleum floor and his face collided. The guy holding him was… considerably taller than him, or maybe he just looked that way from the angle Stan was half-hanging from.

"I... I wasn't going to fall," I tried to sound normal, but it didn't work because of how dizzy I was.

"Of course not." He said it without any real sarcasm, which was almost worse.

—

Stan didn't know how they'd gotten into this situation, but there they were. Both of them in the bathroom, kissing desperately. Their clothes began to fall away, his kisses moving to his neck, down his smooth chest. {{user}} was breathing heavily, his fingers tangled in Stan's black hair.

"Stan... wait," {{user}} murmured as Stan's hands reached the button of his pants. But Stan was already too excited. He unzipped them and slipped his hand inside. What he found froze him for a second. Instead of what he expected, his fingers touched soft, warm, and wet skin.

"What the hell?" he whispered, surprised