Okay- this is totally the last chapter- for real this time… HAHA! So tell me whatcha thought of the story as a whole and the chapter itself… Sorry bout the long wait- I've been busy going to ppls houses for group projects (meaning school work ), laden with tons of homework and I was having total writers block when writing this…so yeah…Plus- I got told of my own moronic mistake- I guess I didn't take off the "filtered" review so I "wasn't" accepting anonymous reviews. I thank those who took the time to actually log in a leave me one anyway! Smiles all around- enjoy!
If You Love Enough, You'll Lie A Lot
Starks Pond was a glimmer of opaque ice. The top was so chipped and stained with scratches from skates that it was nearly impossible to find a smooth spot. The wind had died down but it still stung the face if not properly dressed, which Stan wasn't in the least.
He sat on the cold ground making friends with the blank and vacant ice. Starks Pond was usually peaceful at this hour. Everyone was at home enjoying a meal with their families. There was no one out- except Stan, of course.
His recent discovery had been traumatic for him and he had to get out of his cramped room. Stan hated to admit it, but he felt another presence in that room- one that wouldn't leave him alone to think in peace.
The coat that he decided to leave behind was becoming more and more appealing, but he refused to leave. Stan couldn't bear to stay in his room another minute with himself. All he needed was reminding how Tweek would reject him- and how Wendy dumped him.
He shifted his weight onto his knees and felt drawn to the frozen water in front of him. Something about it made it so alluring. It could have been the pinkish setting light that decided to dapple a welcoming splash of color or it could have been mere desperation for anything that was faker then he was. He reached out a hand and placed a single finger on the ice and felt it melt under his warm touch. In his opposite hand he juggled his keys nervously as if he was debating whether to drive home, drive to Tweek's or just drive- anywhere.
He pulled his hand back, his finger feeling impassible and frozen just like the ice. In his mind he was already at Tweek's house explaining himself, but every wisp of wind brought him back to the hash reality of the situation, which was: either finding a hole to crawl up in forever or confront Tweek. Stan would have liked to take the first route, but his gut told him not to.
Turning and running away from his problems was something that he didn't do. Stan usually fought for what he wanted or for what he believed in, but this time seemed different.
Between the two there was a common interest. What that was, Stan could hardly figure out but he knew it was there. In fact, Stan had a hard time believing what it was about Tweek that made him feel so insecure. Tweek couldn't even tie his own shoes without permission- he wasn't going to end anything.
And yet- Stan picked up a near by rock and tossed it at the iced over pond. The ice chipped and left a chalky white mark on the surface that become an idol of Stan's vision.
Tweek didn't hug him back- not like that should matter but as he thought it, Stan got a burning sensation in his stomach. He dropped his eyes and watched a fickle snowflake finally land on the ground.
His body was weighed down with thoughts and decisions that were hard to make. Stan knew he had to pick one- but he wasn't sure which. There were so many floating around that they were becoming more of a burden than anything.
Should he go to Tweek's house? What would he say if he showed up? Would he reject him like in his entwining thoughts? That sympathetic nervous smile flashed through his memory and he felt sadden. He quickly tossed another stone at the stationary pond.
"Could I take it?" He asked himself, building up a pile of snow. "Tweek is too worried to do anything-," he thought placidly. "But-" he raised his hand to his lip where Tweek had punched him.
"Argg" he shouted angrily and whipped his hand back, knocking the pile of snow back to it original fallen form. "Damn it" he seethed.
And it may take some time to
Patch me up inside
But I can't take it so I
Run away and hide
His hands were starting to turn red from the cold snow and the harsh winds were picking up as the sun relentlessly set in the background. The pink faded into orange and slowly into a deep vast blue stretching across as far as the eye could reach.
Stan stood. He had to face his problems sooner or later and Tweek was a very, very big problem right now. He had to at least tell him what he's been going though- and that it is all Tweek's fault. He sat in the car, but didn't start it.
"What if…" his thought process started up again, contemplating exactly what this situation was turning into. "What if…" he mouthed and feverishly tapped the steering wheel.
With a nervous ache in his body he started the car and headed down towards where the Tweak house resided. It was a very quaint house- quite similar to most houses in the area, not much bigger, not much smaller.
The last time that Stan could remember being at Tweek's house was when they had to write a school project together and that was years ago. He sighed and slowed the car down before turning down his street. The clock read five to nine so he knew that Tweek would be up- hopefully.
His car rolled to a stop in front of the house- but it became silent in seconds. There was no movement, just the soft sound of worried breaths and an accelerating heart beat. The cooling of the car seemed to parallel Stan's mood. Every time he thought about rejection he would become irrational and cynical and then become severely emotional.
"What are you going to say?" His conscious asked, but he answered it with silence.
The battlefield of his brain was gripping the white flag, but it wasn't about to give up just yet. "Just that, perhaps…silence" Stan said, holding the steering wheel and staring ahead as if driving.
He laid his hand on the handle of the car door. But something beckoned his hand away from it. "Am I afraid?" he asked himself sympathetically. "Afraid of what?"
"Rejection…" his mind toyed with him. He slammed his fist against the window and felt a surge of pain rush through it. He shook it as if to release some of the pressure.
"Get out of the car…" He ordered but no part of his body moved.
"Get out of the car…" he said once again with a relentless attitude, but his body refused him again.
"Get out of the car…" he told his body with slight amusement laced through his voice, but with an undertone of viciousness.
There was a long pause of silence in which Stan continued trying will his hands to move. He couldn't give up- if he gave up now his alter ego of a subconscious would forever taunt him. Even if Tweek did reject him, he would at least be able to say he tried.
This thought made him move his hands to rest on the keys and he fought with himself to let go of them.
"Get out of the fucking car!" he shouted angrily and threw himself against car door, ripping open the handle as he went. He nearly fell onto the pavement. He straightened himself upright and started towards the dimly lit windows of the house.
He gained some composure over himself, and slowed his breathing so that he would be able to talk to him when he got to the door.
A moment I'm not trying
To show them who I am
Why can't they understand
The things that they're denying?
Stan knocked impatiently, but no one answered. He pounded until his fists felt like they had been broken, and then he continued to bang on it some more. Sure it was past 9 pm, but Tweek had to be up. Stan persisted to wake the household up until the door opened slowly.
Tweek's mother stood in the doorway, looking pale and annoyed. Stan didn't know what the big deal was- they were all insomniacs anyway. She looked at Stan's features and shook her head.
"Tweek isn't here," she told him lazily.
"Wh- where is he?" Stan was shocked. Since when is Tweek not at his house- where was he? Stan was slightly panicked. Was Tweek avoiding Stan? Did he get his mom to lie to Stan? Did he not want to see him? Stan felt an overpowering ache return to his body as the many questions darted his brain.
"He went to his Grandmothers for a little while- he was having a really hard time sleeping and he wouldn't tell us why- so I sent him there for a while."
"It could be all the coffee he drinks," he thought sarcastically. She looked tired and Stan started to feel slightly guilt, but not guilty enough to back down.
"Well, where's that?" He asked strongly.
"Listen, I'll tell him to call you when he gets back, but until then-"
"What's the number?" Stan cut her off.
"It's a long distance-"
"Jesus! How far away is he?" His eyes widened. Tweek was hours and hours away with no way back and no way of reaching him. "Can I please have directions- this is really important." Stan pleaded but she let the door slide shut. Stan faced it helplessly, debating whether to pound some more or leave. He agreed on giving the blank door the finger and left.
True to Tweek's mothers' words, he wasn't in South Park. He hadn't been at school for days now and Stan was becoming more and more depressed.
"Hey Stan, look I bought you lunch today!" Kyle smiled and sat across from the raven-haired boy who had his head in his arms atop the table. Kyle placed a paper plate with a sub on it in front of him. Stan turned his nose up at the plate and lolled his head to the other side letting his eyes droop closed.
"Words can hardly describe what that looks like" he mumbled and then sighed loudly. "I'm so tired…" he whispered burying his face into the table to get darkness.
He could hear chairs moving and then the shuffling of sitting down. There was a silence between the two and a rambunctious background trying to break though.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Stan?" The red head leaned on one hand and shoved the plate away from them both, trying to see though the top of his head as if that would tell him.
He mumbled a 'nothing' and shifted his stiffening neck.
"You haven't eaten in like- forever, I haven't seen you smile in- forever. You're always tired- I know the signs…" Kyle said shortly and leaned in closer trying to pry the head from the table.
"Good for you…"
"What is it? I haven't seen you this upset for a long time- C'mon you're my best friend- I could help you get though it."
A blush found it's way across Stan's cheeks and he was happy he was hiding his face in his arms and the table. He didn't mean for those dirty thoughts of how Kyle could "help him through it" to enter his head.
"It doesn't matter…" he forced out.
"Sttaan…" he complained, gently shaking his head back and forth, hoping that it would make him raise his head. "C'mon, no one wants to see you like this- is it Bridgett?" Stan shook his head.
"Delilah? Genevieve? Stacie?" He started rhyming off names absentmindedly; trying to remember all the girls he'd ever seen Stan with.
"Yeah, I'm sure you should stop right there…it isn't a girl…" Stan spoke incoherently.
"Well- what is it then- I don't mean to pry, but this has been going on for a while- and I think you should tell someone…"
Stan looked up from his arms and heavy lidded eyes tried to read Kyle's worried features.
"I can't tell you here…" Stan mumbled and blushed slightly, not enough for anyone to notice in the harsh daylight.
"Okay… where?" Kyle asked in wonder and Stan stared at him in shock!
"Where do you want to tell me what's wrong…if not here then where?"
"I- eh- err… I-" he faltered. "My place" He blurted out before he could stop himself. He was thinking, actually, he wasn't thinking and that was how he got into this mess.
"Damn it" He said silently to himself. "What am I going to tell him? Want to fill in for someone while they're away- I need to keep my mind off things?" He cursed himself sarcastically while sitting in class. Every second brought him closer and closer to the end of the day and he would have rather just been arriving.
Stan didn't even have a chance to ditch him; right away a concerned Kyle was at his locker before he could even think about it.
"I've got the car- I'll drive us- saves us from taking the bus. I've got to call my mom when I get to your house so she doesn't flip out and send out the marines thinking I crashed the car or something."
Stan smirked at his overbearing mother. The both of them would always make up scenarios that didn't stretch too far from the truth. He was uncomfortable walking out of the school with Kyle, he was uncomfortable sitting in the car with Kyle and right now he was uncomfortable being in the same room with Kyle.
He was more afraid of throwing himself on him then working out any problems he had. It was the awkward paused and long termed silences that made him think that replacing Tweek with someone else would fix the problem. Stan sat painfully on the floor, looking at Kyle's knees. He was sitting on a chair that they brought in, waiting for Stan to speak.
He sighed. "This is something you need to get out- you can't deal with this on your own. Do you need your parents in here?"
"NO" He dived at the red head and shoved him back in the seat, his hands placed awkwardly on his hips and his face only inches from Kyle's.
"Ok…" he breathed. Stan didn't move which made Kyle blush and in turn made Stan blush. Stan warred with himself whether or not to tell him or to just…close the gap and get it over with.
Neither one spoke. It was a silent attraction, one without borders. Stan bit his lip and Kyle just sat rigid in the chair feeling Stan's hands clamp and release his hips. He felt the dominant black haired boy shift himself to a sitting position onto his lap, dragging his hands up towards his face and closed his mouth over his lips.
This wasn't Tweek, but he felt like Tweek. He wasn't doing anything- like Tweek; he was just sitting there taking it all in- like Tweek; he even had a similar build like Tweek. But he wasn't Tweek… Stan pulled away and looked over a perplexed Kyle. Both were blushing like mad and Stan didn't feel like talking just yet.
He replaced his lips upon the other boys wrapped his arms around his neck. Kyle's arms remained straight and directed at the floor, not sure what brought this on. He didn't know Stan was all that gay, in fact, he didn't know that he was really gay, however he could feel himself pushing lightly on Stan's lips. His stiff hands slowly rising to travel over his thighs to the small of his back, holding him in place with little worry if Stan's parents were to walk in.
Stan let out harsh sigh and attacked his neck, kissing it, leaving marks across it like he did to Tweek. He finally spoke though tender yet harsh kisses.
"I miss... Tweek…I don't know… where he is…I've been…lately…I've been seeing…him…and…I…think… I like…him." His hands gently roamed over Kyle's chest who was still trying to piece together the new information that he had just received. He could hardly think straight at the moment, which was odd seeing as how he didn't like Stan (like that anyway).
Stan bit down hard causing the boy underneath him squeeze his hips and jump out of surprise. "Wait…what?" Kyle breathed pushing Stan away lightly from his bruised neck. "Tweek?"
Stan blushed crimson. "It started out…as…nothing…as… me helping him get a girlfriend. But he was always there and vulnerable- he said he liked me- but I don't want to get hurt again…" Stan let his head fall onto the confused red heads shoulder.
Kyle felt slightly embarrassed. He had just kissed his best friend, found out that he was in some sort of relationship with the same person they made fun of, and to top it off, he was still straddling him. He felt even worse because he was almost taking advantage of Stan in his situation.
"Um, well…" he choked out and patted his back. "You don't know anything of where he is?" He shook his head into his shoulder and didn't remove his hands from around his neck.
"When was that?"
"A few days ago… I asked his mom…"
"Have you asked her since?" The boy shook his head again. Kyle thought for a moment, the blush growing more noticeable with every second. "Why don't we go see his dad at the coffee shop, maybe he'll have more to tell hm?"
It seemed like Stan clung onto him forever, but when he finally let go and stood, Kyle felt like he had lost something that had always been with him. He shrugged it off thinking that it would be a bad idea to go into depth with.
The coffee shop was busy enough but not too busy to get some information. It was an odd conversation, one that sent Stan running out of the coffee shop and leaving Kyle there to explain the hurry.
Tweek was home for one day to pack his things. He thought that he was happier with his Grandma, so he was moving there with her. Stan couldn't deal with that- he couldn't let him move away so he had to get there before he was finished packing.
Why had he kissed Kyle? Because Kyle was there- it was comfort. Tweek was home though and he kissed KYLE? He suddenly felt a wave of guilt, but brushed it aside- it wasn't like they were a couple… yet.
He bent over and rested on his knees in front of Tweek's door. The peeling paint and weather-beaten mailbox seemed to mock him as he rang the doorbell. Tweek answered it, juggling a box of clothes in one hand and another of newspapers in the other.
And I if I hurt you
Then I hate myself
Don't wanna hate myself
Don't wanna hurt you
He dropped the boxes and they seemed to float to the floor. Tweek just looked at him taking in all that Stan had to offer him. He was passive, he was blank, he didn't say anything, he didn't even twitch. He was a stoic figure that didn't move from a sedative state.
Stan gripped his face eagerly between his palms and held it inches away from his own. Stan's lips seemed to move on their own, placing them over Tweek's with delicate intricacy as if he was waiting for a negative reaction.
The kiss wasn't crude- it wasn't complex. It was Stan dismally introducing his mouth over the shorter and slightly younger boys mouth. He pulled away the same distance, not ignoring the slight dissatisfaction painted upon Tweek's face.
He felt his pace quicken, his blood began to push itself forcefully though his veins and it felt as if his pulse was going a million beats per minute. Something inside his brain told him to leave but he couldn't move his feet. They were glued to the spot, as were his hands on the side of Tweek's face.
The helpless blonde stared up at him with a curious anticipation, but one that Stan couldn't map out. He wanted Tweek- he wanted to be with him. He wanted to be able to one-day draw a line that connected what he was thinking to that surprised look. He brushed his finger across Tweek's lip.
Stan let his hands fall on his shoulders and then he pulled him close to his body in a tight embrace. Every movement of Stan's hands over his arms or shoulders sent shivers though his body. And as Stan's head rested at the base of his neck and a flick of hot breath would caress his bare flesh he would let out an inaudible sigh.
"I'm sorry- I didn't want to be-" the words hung in Stan's throat, even though Tweek had the hardest time even hearing them. He didn't respond. He didn't feel the need- Stan was already causing himself enough harm. He did, however, lace his arms around the slender figure grasping onto his own small frame.
"You can't leave me… please…I-"
Even in the embrace without seeing Stan's face, Tweek knew he was having a hard time telling him what he wanted to say. His body gave an involuntary shudder that was relatively normal.
Stan cleared his throat and gripped the back of Tweek's already ruffled shirt. "I- I'll try my hardest… and I wont hurt you… If you promise you wont hurt me…" his voice became weaker with every word and Tweek had to strain himself to hear over his breathing.
"I do like you, Tweek… and if you leave now…I…" he was now painfully holding onto his loose shirt, but Tweek didn't mind, he let his head be pressed against Stan's chest listening to a sporadic heartbeat.
Make me laugh
Say you know
what you want
you said we were the real thing
so I show
you some more
Tweek detached himself and pushed Stan away from him so that he had a good look at his sadden face. He lowered his gaze to the floor and looked at the mess of clothes and newspaper.
"My Grandma's expecting me," he said quietly, but Stan shook his head lightly.
He held Tweek's shaking hands. "Don't…" He said almost too quietly. "I'm…I was afraid…" he hung his head out of sheer embarrassment, hoping that Tweek wouldn't laugh in his face. He let out a confused but very quiet bawl, not knowing what to say to Stan. Was he being serious? A wave of emotions ran though his body and his legs instantly felt weak.
"I don't want to leave…" It was as if some invisible string was attached; his mouth turned into a small docile smile- and for the first time Stan could feel the butterflies.
Oh- CORNY! But I love it! ASHAHHASHAH… I'm such a loser- I was totally thinking of making it a really sad ending and I was like- naw, I'm too much of an asshole to do that, so I decided to keep it simple and ADORABLE! Cause everyone knows that Tweek is amazingly sweet. So yeah, tell me what you thought about my FIRST completed chapter story (on this site). You can love it, you can hate (but why the hell didja read it?) I don't really care… well I guess I do… but now I'm just ranting.
Okay, some end notes:
Thanks to all who have reviewed and enjoyed my story (as FUCKED up as it was) - I do appreciate it a lot. I have a few things to go over.
All the songs that I used are listed (I do not own any of them)
Comalies: Lacuna Coil
I Caught Fire: The Used
Hey You: Shakira
I Do: Lisa Lobe
Winter: Sister Hazel
Best I Ever Had: Vertical Horizon
Jackie's Strength: Tori Amos