Title: Timeless

Rating: R

Summary: Kenny keeps Stan company while Kyle meets Elijah, a dedicated traditional Jew who seeks to show him the error of his ways.

Authors Notes: See, it isn't half as dead as everyone probably thought

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I probably don't own it.

Warning: This contains slash, and any grammar mistakes I make but don't catch.

Chapter Six: Elijah Rosenberg

Stan peered accusingly at the plastic container in his grasp. The label read gray which meant he was supposed to eat it today, but he hadn't eaten the burgundy yesterday or the plumb the day before that. He lifted the lid to peer down at a substance which was fairly pale in color, then took a quick smell.

Kenny leaned over his shoulder. "You gonna eat that?" Stan turned it over to him without a second glance. "Dude, what' wrong?" Kenny asked him, fishing for a fork from the dishwasher. "While I'm painfully aware you can't cook to save your life, Kyle can. I don't care what he's making, it always tastes damn good."

"Yeah," Stan agreed, nudging the refrigerator door closed with his foot.

"This isn't about it being the fridge for a few days, is it?"

Stan swiped a packet of crackers off the table. "Nah, Kyle's food would be good a year from now. I'm just totally not hungry."

Kenny thrust an accusing fork out at him. "You miss him."

"No, I don't," Stan denied. "I'm not married to the guy, and I'm not going to have a nervous breakdown because he's gone for a week."

Shoveling what tasted like a macaroni casserole into his mouth, Kenny frowned at him. "I didn't say anything about having a nervous break down," He said, mouth full. "But you get super attached to people, Stan, and Kyle most of all. I bet you'll be wetting yourself in anticipation for his arrival."

"Ooh, you said a big word, bravo."

"Better believe it."

Kenny leaned forward to open the refrigerator and pulled out a soda. "What do you plan on doing this Christmas, without Kyle and all." Kenny wandered into the apartment's living room and flopped down on the sofa.

"Nothing much," The quarterback called to him. "Open a few presents, watch some sappy-ass made for TV movies and sleep." The voice became stronger to Kenny's ears as Stan appeared in view. "Call Kyle," He admitted. "A lot."

Careful of his injured ribs Stan sat slowly on the armchair adjacent to the sofa. "If I want to keep my spot on the basketball team, among others, I've got to get these ribs healed up, and the wrist."

"Lucky, I'm stuck with Cindy and her cunt mother for Christmas."

Stan laughed. "You're being initiated into the family. You know if this goes any further you'll have to marry her."

Fearful eyes turned on Stan. "Tell me about it. I don't want to get married to her any more than you want to marry Kyle."

"Hey!" Stan's stomach flipped. "Being married to Kyle wouldn't be so bad."

"Only 'cause he takes care of you."

No, it was way more than that. Kyle was his soul mate, Stan was damn sure. Kyle was his real motivation in just about everything he did. The Jewish redhead made him complete, and made him feel important. That was what married couples were supposed to inspire in each other. Stan felt the only thing he and Kyle really lacked happened to be the paper that made it so. However he and Kyle had decided not to discuss it, and Stan didn't want to attempt asking their parents for blessings before they graduated college.


Kenny tapped his friend roughly on the head as he passed by into the kitchen. "Pull yourself out of your Kyle fantasy, lover boy." He dumped the plastic bowl into the sink and ran some water into the container. "You aren't really thinking of marriage or a civil union, are you?"

"Sort of," Stan confessed. "Maybe, one day. I know Kyle wouldn't mind it, but I get the feeling he's willing to wait until we can get married legally in our own state. I figure being married to him would be cool--"

"Considering you already act like you are," Kenny interrupted.

"Sure, sure. I figure if Kyle wants something really bad, it's my job to give it to him. I love him and he loves me, so we should get married, right?"

Kenny pitched a shoe at his head. "And buy a house and have a kid and bring democracy to Cuba. Stuff it, you're making me sick."

"Didn't Kyle bring democracy to Cuba?"


"And don't you think it might be a bit hard for Kyle or myself to conceive a child?"

"Believe me, I've slept on your sofa and it wouldn't be from lack of trying."

The call of pervert carried through the apartment.

With his chin propped up on the palm of his hand, Kyle could feel the drool trickle from the side of his mouth and down his hand. He blinked lethargically but made no attempt to stop the flow. Across from him he noted his younger brother mirroring what he perceived to be his own expression.

"Told you to stay away," Ike told him. "I can't be held responsible for any injuries that might arise from this visit, psychological or otherwise."


Kyle's eyes drifted over towards the visible living room. His hands dropped onto the kitchen table in front of him. His eyes widened in alarm and he moved his sleeve to wipe the drool away. "Ike," He said, reaching for his younger brother. "Ike, who's that mom is talking to? Why is she pointing in my direction."

"Ah, you've spotted her secret weapon."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kyle rose and moved his chair closer to Ike. "What's going on?"

"Mom's speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg, the newest members of the South Park Synagogue. Moved into the neighborhood about six months ago and became mom's new best friends the moment she learned they had a--"

"A son," Kyle completed.

"Oh, you bet your bottom dollar. You're looking at Elijah Rosenberg. He's twenty-three, just graduated from a prestigious Jewish school in New York and is working for some big Jewish firm. He's about as traditional as you can get in the Jewish faith and of course mom thinks that's practically the greatest thing ever. He's good looking, going great places and most importantly, Jewish."

Kyle tore his eyes away from the tall brunet and back to his brother. "Thank you, 411. What's she planning?"

Ike raised his eyebrows, giving his brother an incredible look. "Are you serious?"

"I get it, I get it."

Kyle ducked his head down as Elijah Rosenberg looked over towards him, probably at his mother's insistence. Kyle couldn't deny the male was good looking, and had his heart not belong to Stan he might have been interested. Yes, Kyle could see Elijah was a good match for him, if he were a nice, traditional, good Jewish boy. Certainly if he wasn't a Jew who had moved away from his aging mother and was currently living in sin with a Christian.

"What about you?" Kyle wheeled around on his brother. "Why do you get off scot-free?"

"You're kidding right? The Rosenberg's have a daughter right around my age. I'm pretty sure Mom's trying to arrange a marriage or two as we speak." The Canadian born teen froze. "Look, there she is, there's Judith." Ike cringed, ducking down like his older brother had moments ago.

With a sour expression that hinted to horror, Kyle reached out to pat his brother sympathetically. Elijah was an Adonis in comparison to his younger sister.

Then Kyle was all too aware of his mother beckoning him over, more like frantically gesturing to him. She was silently telling him he had less than thirty seconds to present himself before she let hell on earth reign down upon the house.

"I've got to go." Kyle stood, brushing down his shirt. "The Executioner calls."

Ike raised his head to nod. "May your death be swift and painless."

Elijah Rosenberg was taller than Kyle had imagined. While Stan stood only mere inches over him, Elijah toppled by almost half a foot. He smiled a wide smile which only helped to compliment his already handsome features. Aside from a stray hair or two his brown hair held perfectly to his face, indicating he either had and overly fussy mother or was completely vain.

"Kyle Broflovski," He greeted, holding his uninjured hand out.

"Good Week," Elijah counted traditionally. "Elijah Rosenberg."

Elijah had only momentarily clasped his outstretched hand when Shelia Broflovski nearly squealed, and definitely turned the attention of the small get-together towards her. "It's wonderful," She exclaimed, settling her hands over theirs to hold them together. "I can just see you boys are going to get off to a great start. "Why don't you take Elijah up to your old room, Kyle." With her other hand settling onto Kyle's shoulder it was clear it was not negotiable.

Kyle nodded to Elijah. "Sure, follow me."

"You're attending a university up in Northern Colorado?" Elijah questioned in Kyle's room, scanning the pictures and item contained within.

Kyle settled onto the edge of his bed, cradling his injured wrist in his lap. He hadn't taken any painkillers recently and felt the need to do so soon. "Yeah, I'm a senior. I hear you graduated last year, from New York."

Elijah turned piercing blue eyes on him. "It was a private college in upstate." He turned back to a shelf he had been looking at and pulled a picture frame off it. "Who's this?" He asked, pointing to the picture.

"That's Stan." Kyle smiled.


"Going on six years in February. How'd you guess?"

Elijah shrugged. "You two just look comfortable together."

"We are best friends."

"That and your mother was pressing me to ask you out, which probably is an indication she doesn't like the guy you're dating now."

Kyle leaned backwards, resting his back on the bed. "She was fine with Stan pretty much the whole time we were in high school. I guess she thought I'd out grow him and that I'd go off to some huge college and he'd go to Colorado State. She didn't plan on him getting the scholarship or me going with him."

"So he's the reason you decide to attend a Colorado University?"

"Partly," Kyle said, "Mostly. I've loved Stan for a long time and we're pretty much partners in everything we do. It was easier for me to go with him then for him to attempt to find a college near mine that would support him on a scholarship."

Elijah sat next to Kyle. "That's sweet, if not totally inappropriate."

"What?" Kyle's tone took a turn of anger and he hoisted himself up.

Elijah seemed innocent enough. "We're Jewish, Kyle. Despite being bisexual or homosexual, whichever you prefer, we are still Jewish. We abide by Jewish law, follow the customs and most strongly believe in our God. You have been fully aware of your actions for a very long time, I'd guess. You know no matter how much you love Stan, he'll never be accepted into the family as your partner and he'll never be a part of your religion. He isn't Jewish, and in our religion that means everything."

"Maybe it's that way for you, and while I respect my religion and embrace it, I refuse to let it rule my life. I love Stan and I'm betting on spending the rest of my life with him. I don't care that he isn't Jewish. I love him the way he is."

"You can say that all you want," Elijah told him. "But realistically you know you your life would be easier if he were Jewish. You know your mother wouldn't work herself into high blood pressure and your family wouldn't have to work endlessly to survive her wrath. You know your family and your Synagogue expects you to settle down with a nice girl an have some nice Jewish kids, but realistically that isn't going to happen, so at the very least you can have a Jewish partner."

The hurtful words cut towards Kyle who peered questioningly at Elijah. "A nice Jewish boy like you? Who broke your heart and told you these things? Who did you love that wasn't Jewish?"

Elijah merely caught his shoulders and pulled him close. "Just listen to me, listen to what I'm saying. I know you love Stan and that important, but if you continue to be his partner, you'll have to choose. Eventually it will come down to your faith or him. Will you be prepared to make the right choice? Not the choice that you want but the choice that you need to make."

"For crying out loud." Kyle shrugged out of his grasp. "It's just religion. I've never let my religion consume me in the past, and it has never dictated what I choose in life. I won't be like you and I won't let you blow the issue up into something huge. It's religion and with or without it I will live with, love and fuck Stanley Marsh. If God has a problem with that, he can take it up with my personally."

With that he stormed from the room, refusing to allow Elijah to know just how concerned he actually was.