Anyway. Short fic that I had an idea for whilst I was studying for an exam. Yaoi strikes me in the strangest places...

I'm also getting this fuzzy idea for a follow-up to She Has No Idea. It wouldn't be the same sort of thing (violent sex, don't overdo it, my friends!) but rather like an extension of what happens afterward, when Bebe knows about them and whatever.

This is a really short fic, and...

Disclaimed. That's it, really.

Giving to the Greater Good
In a botched attempt to get back together with Stan, Wendy gives him ideas about what his best friend's weird new habit means. Pointless. Love! StanKyle.



Kyle was intellectual and awesomely chill and he knew how to make a killer comeback. He was usually too into his reading or studying to be bothered to smile or laugh at anything or anybody, but that was part of what made him cool.

That was the most Stan could really say about his best friend, if you'd asked him any time near the beginning of his sophomore year in high school.

When the end of first quarter swung around, he could have also told you that, despite the whole no-smiling thing, Kyle was a really great friend - and strangely enough, a very generous guy.


It was around Halloween when Kyle had done Stan the first small charity in a series of many.

Kyle, having deemed Halloween to be a waste of time that did nothing but promote unhealthy eating habits, had stayed in that night, watching CSPAN or some other political mumbojumbo that he claimed to actually be interested in. He would also pass candy out to those who came to the house, just because he was cool with kids and wanted to relive the good-old-days to some extent, from back when he'd go trick-or-treating with Eric and Stan and Kenny. Those three were still trick-or-treating, as sophomores. He'd really had nothing to say to them as far as complaints went, but they knew that bugging him to go with them would just evoke his intellectual wrath, so they'd left him to wallow alone in his Smartness.

Late into the evening, after the mad rush of trick-treaters had pretty much died down, he heard the doorbell - and, expecting to see some kid dragging the holiday out as long as possible, was mildly surprised to see that his dark-haired best friend was standing there instead, donning a shit-eating Vampiric grin and holding a stuffed pillowcase over his shoulder.

"Trick-or-treat," He'd said.

Kyle had invited him in, dryly amused at how content Stan looked with his bag of donated goods.

"What, don't I get any candy?" Stan asked after tossing his pillowcase by the couch and seating himself there in the dark room. He looked to the TV, the only source of light, and made a face. "Why do you watch this shit, dude?"

Kyle had coolly explained (in as little as two-hundred words) what the benefits of cultivating the intellect were, on short-term and long-term bases. Stan regretted himself, as always. Still, it was kind of cute how Kyle always assumed everybody gave a flying fuck about his BrainPower agenda. That, combined with his short temper, always made the redhead interesting, to say the least.

"Stan, I feel a little responsible for how you've turned out..." was what Kyle had later said; "I guess I can treat you to something, since it's Halloween."

Stan had grunted and then looked at his friend expectantly.

This is what Kyle's first gift to Stan was: a toothbrush. On Halloween.

"Mom bought a lot of them at them at Costco. I haven't tried, but they're supposed to vibrate."

Kyle had then sent Stan on his way, claiming that the mind wouldn't function well without enough sleep. Stan, on the other hand, had spent the rest of his waking hours staring at the gift and being generally scared at what this was supposed to mean.

After that, Kyle seemed to have taken it upon himself to promote Stan's well-being, or at least his..."mental and emotional homeostasis," as Kyle had deemed it, to which Cartman had promptly shit a gigglefit and started all over again with that whole

Kahl is turning you into a faaag!

thing. Well, Stan would almost agree, if not for the fact that he'd long decided against believing anything that came out of Cartman's mouth. Because seriously...why the word 'homeostasis?' Didn't Kyle even realize it? Did he assume everyone was on the level of maturity at which one could properly distinguish between 'homeostasis' and 'homo?'

Sometimes Kyle drove him nuts, but the fact that the Jew was so crazy smart and didn't give two shits about what people were calling him was kind of...endearing.

But - back to the point.

Simply put, Kyle made it seem like it was perfectly normal to give gifts to people without so much as an explanation or a smile on his face - and while it was part of some people's personality to be generous, the fact still remained that Kyle only (openly) did it for Stan. And Kyle was scarily perceptive, too, even when it seemed like he wasn't paying attention.

"Token wouldn't give me a fucking pen in Econ," Stan, for example, had once complained in between classes. "We have to take our tests in ink, you know? And Token was all worried about his fucking rich-boy pens...I got one from Mr. Brooks, but still...pisses me off."

Kyle hadn't seemed to be listening, as he was too absorbed in reading some political satire novel. Stan hadn't really cared; Kyle was always like this. Acting like the teenaged world around was too pubescent and uninteresting for his attention. It didn't bother him.

But, the next day, Kyle, with his eyes now glued to a different novel than the day before, had casually presented his friend with a sealed case of two black pens. Two really fucking high-quality awesome pens. And Kyle hadn't even looked up from his novel.

Stan had merely stared, and then accepted the gift as gracefully as he could. Which wasn't saying much, but...


And once, about two weeks later, when Stan had grudgingly muttered something about Wendy stealing his Business notes right before the mid-term...

The next day:

"It's good to help your girlfriend study." Kyle was quite adorably serious and matter-of-fact, as always. "Still, you should know to be more judicious in giving away important notes like those." And then, before Stan even had a chance to remind his friend that he and Wendy were currently off-again, Kyle - who was still busy studying some worksheet from his fancy-pants AP Composition class – had presented him with a set of cleanly-written and well-organized Business notes.

Stan had accepted them gratefully and without thinking, about to tell his buddy 'thanks' and that he'd have the notes returned by the end of the day -

And then he remembered: Kyle didn't take Business. Never had.

What the fuck? How was that even possible?

He'd wanted to ask, but Kyle had started off to class without another word, still studying diligently and totally unfazed by Stan's bewildered stare on his back.

This sort of thing kept happening, and Stan eventually got used to it. Kenny always seemed interested to see what Kyle had brought Stan this time, as if it were the easy way to gain insight into Stan's life that he was otherwise too lazy to try for, and Eric was constantly spouting his largely ignored Faggy Jew Wants To Assram comments, but otherwise, their classmates had sort of gotten used to this gift-giving ritual.

In fact, on rare days when Kyle didn't have something for Stan, not even some little tiny thing, a lot of people would ask Stan if they had 'gotten into a fight' or commented with a 'what's wrong with Kyle?' As if there were something wrong with Kyle not getting him stuff.

Stan had gotten a sense that everyone knew something that he didn't about this whole thing, and it made him nervous to feel so oblivious. He sometimes found himself wanting to get presents for Kyle, too, but his red-haired best friend was so self-sufficient that the only thing Stan seemed able to donate (and that Kyle actually wanted) was his own time.

So, they spent a lot of silent times together, Kyle reading those Intellectual things of his while Stan lazed around, preferably on the floor of either of their bedrooms, staring at the ceiling and thinking about how weird (but cool) this friendship was - among other things. Even though they barely talked during these lethargic afternoons, Stan was positive that Kyle liked the fact that he was just there. Stan didn't really have anything else to do, either, and he did like Kyle, so he didn't mind these visits.

One unusual afternoon, during which Stan and Kyle were not, in fact, hanging out, Stan found himself awoken from his comfortable nap by the annoying tone of his cellphone.

Grumbling, he flipped himself over and threw his arm out in a blind search for the ringing cell. Once he'd found it, he answered it with a sleepy grumble and a yawn.

"Hey, Stan." It was Wendy. "Can we talk?"

So he invited her over. Dramatically, she put up the airs of regret, and Stan immediately knew what she was here to 'talk' about. He was a nice guy, though; perhaps too nice of a guy, and so he allowed her to carry out whatever sort of seduction she had planned this time.

"Stan!" She'd thrown herself onto his bed with a little pout, laying on her back and holding some teen magazine high above her as she read from it. "I think I know why it wasn't working last time. This article Bebe showed me, it has some good answers, you know?"

"Oh..." Stan didn't say anything more. So she continued.

"You have to get to know the person," she read excitedly, as if this revelation had instantly solved all of their problems. "Chemistry and feelings of excitement and joy fade after a while. But Stan! Look, it says that's perfectly normal!"

She'd gone on to explain that people who were in love tended to still find things about their partners annoying. Happily, she'd expressed to him how they must be in love – because there were plenty of things that annoyed her about Stan, and she still loved him.

To give Miss Testaburger credit where credit is due, she actually did manage to make this argument a bit more logical than I have worded it here. For the sake of time, however, I will tell you that what I have shown you is basically Stan's understanding of everything she'd said. It didn't make sense to him.

He'd sent her on her way, saying the best he could do for her right now was to sleep on it. Lately, he just hadn't been feeling as lonely without Wendy; definitely not as much as he used to during their off-again periods, and he was even beginning to consider not going on-again at all.

"Cool," he'd told himself, like a total dork, as he fell to his bed.

Bored and not-yet-sleepy, Stan picked up the magazine Wendy had forgotten on his bed in her awkward and rushed departure after learning that getting Stan back would not be as easy as she'd thought.

There were a lot of pages about makeup and acne facewash and images of shirtless male celebrities on the beach. Pfah, how silly girls could be. A nice, honest, respectable, intelligent guy (like Kyle) with his shirt on was a hundred times better than a shirtless celeb any day. (This was, he decided, only what he thought girls should think. Not what he thought. No, no, ha ha. Poor Stan; he was always amazed at how awkward he could make himself feel...)

He flipped to the dog-eared page that Wendy had been reading out of.


He blinked and snorted a choking little laugh. Who wrote this thing, anyway? Kyle? Ha ha...

He read on and quickly realized it wasn't about scholastic homework. 'Homework' here meant 'researching relationships,' or something like that.

Common relationship problems: During the initial "lust" period you set aside or overlook the things that could save you from several relationship problems.

For example, you are with a guy and when another man looks at you your man flies of the handle and threatens the guy. You think it's a little overboard but like the attention.

Hint: It can lead to physical and verbal abuse.

Stan grunted to himself thoughtfully. It made sense, he guessed. He was also proud of himself for never having 'flown off the handle' about anything like a girl. He just wasn't a very noisy or aggressive guy, but he did get jealous sometimes...

His eyes skimmed the rest of the page in relative disinterest, barely paying attention to the small headings.

When He's Always Talking About His Ex-Girlfriend...

How Peer Pressure Destroys Relationships...

If He's Showering You With Too Many Gifts...

Blah, Blah, Blah. Whatever…

But then he stopped, reading back a bit.

Another example of miscommunication: You are being showered with gifts but you never asked for them. While you like them, it might make you feel a little awkward.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully; blue eyes bright, and he read the next line.

Hint: The man is trying to buy your love because he may not be able to show he loves you or likes you in other ways. Consequently, you will feel neglected but have a ton of gifts.



He gently set the magazine down, crossed his arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.


He sighed.


But, still. It did kinda make sense.


Sometime later that week, Wendy approached Stan during lunch, sitting down in the empty seat next to him. Cartman was doing what looked like some sort of meditation exercise (??? Perhaps not, but nobody had bothered to ask what it actually was,) Kenny was busy trying to balance fries on the ends of his fingers, and Kyle, having nonchalantly slid today's gift across the table at Stan (cherry cough drops for his sore throat) already, was completely engrossed in a collection of autobiographical essays by some writer Stan had never heard of.

None of his friends even blinked at Wendy's approach. They all figured she and Stan had gotten back together again. It wasn't out of the ordinary.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked carefully, leaning her chin in the palm of her hand and gazing sidelong at her off-again boyfriend. "You still haven't called me or anything. I thought we'd come to an understanding..."

Stan smiled at her briefly. "I'm still not sure about it," he admitted. "I'm starting to think maybe we should stop this whole thing."

Both Kenny and Kyle glanced at them quietly. This was new.

Frowning, Wendy tried to figure out what the dark-haired boy was saying.

"So you don't want to get back together? I though you loved me, you know?"

Stan was kind of amused. She only seemed mildly disappointed that Stan was rejecting her permanently. Maybe she didn't believe him?

"Yeah, I did, too. You didn't do anything wrong, but it just doesn't seem like a good idea to..."

Stan paused and noticed Kenny watching them like they were a movie, and, even though Kyle wasn't looking up from his book, it was obvious from way he was holding it and how the pages were turning way less frequently that the redhead was listening to them, too. Cartman was still meditating or whatever, the silly fuck.

"Hey, Wendy..." Stan frowned gently. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

She quickly nodded, apparently having noticed the other boys' intrusive behavior, as well.

The would-be couple walked over to the corner of the cafeteria, by the stairs, where all the special-ed kids usually sat.

"So," Wendy started, folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall with a sly smile. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me the real reason you don't want to get back together?"

Caught, Stan grunted and turned a darker shade of face, not bothering to defend himself.

"I – I don't know; I..."

Wendy sighed. "Stan, it's fine. We never signed a pact that you can't look at anyone else, you know..."

The tall, skinny boy made a face. "What?"

"Don't try to tell me this isn't about someone else," she trailed off. "It's cool. I'd actually be kind of worried if you never liked anyone else."

"I ...I don't like anyone else," he said, colour still high. He glanced sideways, avoiding her striking stare. That girl had always been too good at eye contact. "I just thought we shouldn't do this anymore."

Wendy shrugged. "Alright. So who is she?"

"Well, see, it's actually pretty weird, 'cause the other day, I was – "

She laughed. "So there is someone else."

"..." Stan looked to the side again. "I guess. Maybe."

She smiled sweetly and hugged him in a friendly gesture. "I feel responsible for you, you know. Should I set you up with her?"

"No!!" Stan suddenly felt nauseated.

"Okay, okay. But I'm always here if you need a friend...or something."

Stan had his hand over his mouth now, nodding slowly as he grimaced.

"Thank, Wen--hhhnch!" His breath hitched and he hunched over, throat constricting as he desperately tried not to puke.

She patted his back and left him to himself, muttering something that sounded like 'cute.'


It was a good two weekends later that Stan finally decided to do something about this.

His feelings had changed and twisted and collapsed in on themselves, over and over and over again in the time since Wendy had tried to get back together. He was starting to feel like he desperately wanted to get Kyle something for all the gifts, or even tell him to stop with the little favors, but Kyle was always so indifferent about everything, it was kind of hard to approach the topic.

He'd been looking at that stupid magazine that Wendy had left those weeks ago:

...because he may not be able to show he loves you or likes you in other ways.

Stan had also, embarrassed but chalking it up to curiosity, been having modest sexual fantasies about his best friend during the day and during his sleep. Was it normal? Was it abnormal?

Agh! He didn't really care anymore. To be honest, his quirky friend was really more important than all these stupid questions and sexual fantasies of his.

But he wouldn't mind if that really was the case. Because...seriously? Kyle, who wouldn't look up when people talked to him; Kyle, who never smiled at anyone's jokes; Kyle, who never seemed to need anyone's approval...

Well, wouldn't it be the bee's knees if he, for some reason, needed Stan's?

Stan was also finding himself extremely envious lately. As in... he'd prefer if Kyle would give gifts to smart people, but pay 100 attention to Stan at the same time. He wanted to be the 'something' that Kyle enjoys over everyone else, ignoring everyone else's jokes and comments in favor of Stan's company.

Oh, god. He was really in it bad, wasn't he?


That was Kyle's knock, and Stan would know. (Kenny's knock was a Knock… Knock. And Cartman's was more of a KABLACKA! Hahahaha! Sorry about the door! Not!)

He brushed aside his worries for the time being and got up.

"Hey! Dude." Stan greeted and smiled coolly at his friend, who'd met his gaze just long enough to nod approvingly before he walked into the bedroom, carrying some thick novel collection of English plays with him.

Stan watched as his friend seated himself at the wooden chair behind Stan's desk, flipping open to his marked page and getting lost in that world without another word.

The taller, dark-haired boy only smiled, going over to his bed and sitting down. He picked up his small remote and flipped on the TV, setting it to Comedy Central.

The long silence was not interrupted for an hour by anything except the sound of Stan's giggling and laughter. Kyle did look up from time to time to see what was so funny, but otherwise kept himself occupied with his plays.

Stan, on the other hand, was getting very uncomfortable – though he did try not to show it. His stomach was turning, but thankfully had long had good control over his tendency to toss up on people he liked, so it wasn't a big concern. The 'big concern' here was that he was getting aroused by the mere fact that Kyle was there, just sitting on a chair and reading a book. A book of plays – English-fucking-plays, which was pretty much the least arousing thing Stan could think of.

But it was Kyle reading them, so...




Stan blinked and twitched violently, jerking his head sideways with wide eyes.

"S-Sorry! Um, what's up?" He swallowed.

Kyle stared at him, and Stan wanted to shiver. It was hardly ever that Kyle kept his eye-contact this long, though the red-haired Jew was notorious for staring at classmates thoughtfully and not looking away when he was caught. He really was a master of making people uncomfortable.

Stan tried to look away, but he couldn't. Kyle finally spoke up again, folding his book and setting it on Stan's desk as he stood and pulled an envelope out of from in between the pages. He walked toward his confused friend.

"I didn't want to forget," Kyle said, his tone even and cadenced as if he were a well-spoken adult and not an awkward 16-year-old boy. He held the new gift out to Stan, who took it warily and used it as an excuse to look away from that intensely green stare.

"Uh. Thanks."

Kyle was already going back to his book. Stan frowned and stood, still not opening the envelope.

"Kyle," he said loudly. Kyle peered back over his shoulder.


"I said thanks," Stan reminded him, a little annoyed and very embarrassed.

Kyle huffed, looked at the ground for the moment, and then looked back up to Stan.

"Why don't you open it first?" he suggested.

Stan's heart was racing as he opened the envelope. Was it a card? Could it be some kind of confession?

After all, the magazine had said...

Stan cleared his throat and blocked off that thought. He just opened the card and checked it out:

EB Games: $50

"Kyle! Dude!" Stan looked up in surprise. "Are you fucking insane?"

Kyle sighed, re-closed his book, and glanced pointedly at Stan.

"My cousin got it for my birthday, and I have no use for it," he shrugged.


Kyle lifted his eyebrows. "Sorry, but I know you're into games, so I figured you'd want it. If you don't..."

Stan was totally flustered by now. "Wait, Kyle – I mean, this is – this is kinda…too much, dude, I – was your birthday? When?" His face fell slightly. "Dude, how come you didn't tell us?"

"It's no big deal. I don't really need anything."


Stan set the gift down on his bed and went over to the desk, frowning at his best friend. He stood on one side, Kyle sitting in his chair on the other. Stan leaned forward, sweating, a little nauseated, and totally intent on figuring this puzzle out.

"Why do you keep getting me shit, man?"

Kyle blinked at him, pushing his book completely aside, and stared up into confused ice-blue eyes.

"Does it bother you? You haven't complained about it..."

Stan glanced at Kyle's mouth, then back at thoughtful green eyes. He licked his lip nervously. "Well, no, I don't mind, but it''s kinda weird, dude. I don't know anyone else who does that for their friends..."

"Do you know anyone else like me?" Kyle wondered.

Stan wanted to cry. Why was he so hard to crack?!

"Not the point!" He cried in exasperation. "It's just that..."

"Go on."

Stan gave him a I-didn't-appreciate-that look. "Well, I read some stuff, and – " He seemed to change his approach, "Actually, I don't really care about anything, and you seem to hate everybody, so it's just...surprising."

At this, Kyle smiled for the first time in what seemed like months. It totally threw Stan.

"I do like you, though."

Stan found himself sinking down to the floor, completely flustered by that elusive smile. He...really couldn't remember the last time he'd seen it; it was – so – so - ...awesome. He leaned against one leg of the desk, left hand covering his warm face.

"Kyle, you..." He muttered, " can't just go and say stuff like that, man..."

The redhead had stood from the chair and walked calmly around the desk, crouching down next to his friend. It was nice, Stan thought, that, even though Kyle was completely humorless most of the time, it also meant he knew exactly when to take his friends seriously.

"What's bothering you?" Kyle asked. "You've been acting strange lately."

"I know, I know..."

Kyle carefully reached out and pulled Stan's hands away from his face. "And your face is totally red."

Stan only turned redder at this, trying to ignore how nice Kyle's hands felt. The smaller boy never touched anyone, so this did mean something, right?


Kyle grunted.

The dark-haired boy hesitated for a moment. "How many people are there that you like?"

Slightly baffled, Kyle seemed to think on this.

"...That's a strange question." He glanced at Stan, eyes brightening suddenly. "Is there a different one hidden behind it?"

Really. Sometimes Stan wondered just how obvious he was.

He stumbled to his feet and went to the other side of the room without explanation. Silently, he went back over to his patient friend and handed him Wendy's magazine, the page open to that blasted article. He pointed to it.

Kyle took it, standing as well. It took him only a few seconds to read the short piece about gifts.


Completely embarrassed, Stan refused to look away from the wall. He didn't want to see Kyle's face.


"...Dude, I know it's gay, but you gotta admit-"


"What?" He turned quickly, and just in time for Kyle to do something that Stan really never thought he'd see.

Kyle was giggling. Not only giggling, but gasping, squeaking, and then - cracking up.


"Is...Is – hahahaha," Kyle leaned over slightly, cheeks full and red from being so unused to hearty laughter. Stan couldn't but think Kyle looked kind of...godly. He looked so great like that; why didn't Kyle laugh more often? "Is...ha! Is that what you...hehehhe..."

Stan started laughing along with him, though mostly out of confusion.

"Oh, man," Kyle gasped, putting a hand on Stan's shoulder as he calmed down. "I haven't laughed like that for ages..."

"Well, I'm glad you find it funny." Stan said slowly and sent him a strange look. Kyle sobered instantly, taking his hand away from Stan's shoulder.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad, it's just matter what gift I gave you, recently, it didn't seem to be fixing what was wrong..."

"...What?" The taller boy's face was still warm with shame. Did Kyle really pay that much attention?

Kyle was quiet for a few seconds, and then elaborated: "I was kind of worried. I'm just glad to finally figure out why you've been so out of it."

And they stared at each other – cue awkward silence.

"...Um," Stan said articulately, ten seconds later.

Kyle scratched a spot on the side of his mouth uneasily. "Yeah?"

"Kyle, I wrong, then? Or do you really...?"

Kyle was never one to beat around the bush, but he honestly didn't know the best way to answer this.

"I'm not sure. It wouldn't bother you, would it?"

Stan's eyes brightened. "You do...?"

Kyle smiled a little. "Kinda looks like you want me to."

Stan opened his mouth and closed it, lost for what to say. Eventually, he gave up and shrugged, clearing his throat as he looked at everything except Kyle.

Kyle only stood there and scrutinized his embarrassed friend for a while, staring at him with a deeply thoughtful look in his eyes. After a moment, he turned to the wall and leaned his back against it. He snapped his fingers for Stan's attention and then pulled the other boy to face him.

"Well then," he said serenely. "I think you want me to. You have permission to prove me wrong."

Stan tried not to get queasy. "I...What?"

Kyle smirked. "I'm never wrong..."

He reached out, no frills or hearts or stars; just reached out, pulled Stan by the collar until they were separated by no more than three inches, and raised his eyebrows in level-headed invitation.

Stan's shoulders were hunched up, as Kyle basically had just forced him to pin him up against the wall. Stan stuttered for a moment.

"K-Kyle, I- I think I'm gonna-"

Kyle touched their lips together, very briefly, and slowly pulled back again.

"Hmm..." the redhead licked his top lip quickly; pensively. "Yeah...I like it."

Stan nearly had a heart attack – but restrained himself for many reasons. He laughed nervously and allowed his tense shoulders to relax.

"You try," Kyle invited.

So, having no objection, Stan did. Slowly, tentatively; kind of messy and their lips didn't fit at first. Stan had only kissed Wendy before in his life, so he'd never really even thought about how two people's mouths could be so completely different –

But, he liked it...a lot. Kyle was a systematic kisser, very careful, controlled, and still submissive in a very methodical way. He wasn't reckless...

Stan wondered what the smaller boy thought about this as he idly registered in his mind the sound of Kyle's head bumping against the wall. It was getting more involved, and Stan was getting more confident.

Soon, Stan could feel a struggle for air, and his chest gasped shortly for breath at every opportunity; each time their lips separated for any small amount of time. Stan knew he had himself in check, could stop at any time – but then, one of them (he couldn't tell who) had left a space between his lips, and their tongues met, and everything was suddenly a lot harder to control.

Eventually, after a lot of uncomfortable sliding-down-the-wall and bumping-against-things, they were part-way on the floor and finally able to separate.

"God – haa – oh – ha – my god – haa, hah, hahh..." Stan panted.

Kyle just lay on the floor, one eyelid shut more than the other, lips dark and swollen, cheeks pink as he gasped for breath.

Stan looked down at him for a long time. He really...really liked it. He would almost say ...he loved it. He loved having this effect on Kyle. He didn't even mind that Kyle had that same effect on him right back.

"Hah...hah..." Stan swallowed, and got off of Kyle. "I like it...too."

Kyle huffed, sitting up and staggering clumsily to his feet. He sat himself down on Stan's bed, running his hands down his face over and over again, trying to get some of the heat to leave him.


Nervously, Stan grunted, wondering if Kyle had changed his mind...

Kyle dropped his hands from his face and stared at his friend for a long time.

Eventually, he muttered something to himself, and then gave Stan a small smile of consent.

"I...I think I've found a way..." he paused to take another breath, still winded; "...for you me...back...for"

Stan could only laugh in youthful relief, wondering how many of those a 50-dollar gift card was worth.

In conclusion, from this experience, Stan learned something both potentially interesting and generally useless...

Before, he could have told you that Kyle was intellectual and awesomely chill and he knew how to make a killer comeback. He was really into his reading, hardly ever smiled, a generous guy, and all that.

But, by the time winter came around and they were well into the third quarter of their sophomore year, there was one more thing he could tell you for sure: Kyle Broflovski, his brainy best-friend and boyfriend, was one hell of a kisser.


-style xx