Disclaimer:I don't own South Park, nor the various drinks that are mentioned in the story. I write this story just for fun.
Author's Note I: So, after a long break, here I am again. Man, I read so much StanKyle for the past week… mostly re-read things. I really wanted to write something new, and the idea for this came from a similar conversation I had with a gay friend a few years back. A good friend of mine also said he suggested it to some girl he knows…
I really hope this will be updated, but with my inability to finish chaptered works and the god damned strike at the universities that's supposed to end soon (then I'll have to study), I kind of doubt that…
Author's Note II: I apologize ahead for spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native tongue. Is there even such a thing as paper saucer? I dunno how to call it…
Author's Note III: Weihenstephan rulez.
Chapter One: The Saucer
"You know", Kyle told him one night when they sat at a local bar, his speech slightly slurred, and threw one arm across Stan's shoulders, causing a reddish tint to appear on the other male's cheeks. "Since the both of us are failures when it comes to have a steady relationship, I have a suggestion." He took a long gulp from his second glass of Weihenstephan, then burped. Stan frowned. "I say, that if three years from today we're still fuckin' single, we start to date each other."
Stan nearly choked on his drink, and forced it down, coughing as it slid down his throat. "What!" he exclaimed, whipping his head around quickly to gape at his best friend.
Surprisingly enough, Kyle was staring back at him, just the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. "I'm serious, Stan," he said, taking another long gulp from his beer. "We always break up with our girlfriends – boyfriends, in your case-" Stan frowned again, "because they get jealous of the relationship we have with each other. And really, we never argue because we'd rather spend time with each other than with them."
Stan sighed. "Stop joking around, Kyle," he said, prying the Jew's hands off of his shoulders, the reddish tint from earlier returning to adorn his face. Kyle stared innocently at him. Stan grumbled. "Come on, I think you had enough to drink. Finish that glass and we'll go back," he said, fingering his car-keys (the reason he didn't find Kyle's idea funny, as he head to settle for a coke) through the pocket of his jeans.
Kyle pouted. "Oh, come on dude, don't be a party pooper! There-" he flipped the paper saucer that laid under his glass and searched his pocket for a pen, missing it a few times and nearly falling off the chair (luckily, Stan was there to catch him). When his searches turned up in vain, he requested a pen from the bartender, who immediately complied. "Now," Kyle said, pressing the top of the pen so he'd be able to write. He scribbled something on the saucer, and threw the pen back at the counter-top when he finished.
"I, Kyle Broflovski," he started, snickering. "Hereby declare that if by the fourth of January, two thousand and twenty, I am still girlfriendless and Stan is still boyfriendless," there he stopped to snicker again. "We will start dating one another!" then he burst out laughing, much to Stan's dismay (he really didn't find the situation that funny). He grabbed the pen once again and signed his name at the bottom of the saucer, and passed it to Stan to do the same. Stan eyed him wearily, but signed his name, nonetheless, and when he was about to pass the saucer back to Kyle, Kyle pushed his hand back. "You keep it," he said, finished his beer with one last, long gulp and sighed contently. Stan was positive he would have been better off without the two shots of Jäger he had in between.
He sighed heavily, pocketed the saucer and helped Kyle up. The redhead leaned on him, his head rolling on his broad shoulder. "You know," he whispered in his ear, his eyes half shut and his breathing reeking of alcohol, "I really hope we'd stay single for three years." Stan nearly dropped Kyle at that, but regained his composure quickly enough to shove Kyle in the front seat of his car. By the time he started the engine, Kyle had already passed out completely.
And now, almost three years later, Stanley Marsh sat at his kitchen table and rubbed his temples, staring tiredly at a somewhat crumpled paper saucer. In all honesty, when Kyle gave it to him that night at the bar, he meant to throw it away and forget about it. But, as fate would have it, he forgot it in his jeans back-pocket (which had rarely met the washing machine), and found it anew about two months later. Then, since he was in quite a hurry (to a date!), he put it in his lower drawer and resolved to throw it away the following day. Since that date was a complete failure, when he returned home his mind was occupied with thoughts of misery and loneliness and he forgot about that saucer yet again. The second time he uncovered it was when he cleared his drawers in search for a list of books related to his midterm paper at his third year of college. He stared at it then, remembering Kyle's words from two years ago, and wondered whether Kyle remembered them himself. In contrary to the previous times, Stan decided to keep it.
Stan sighed heavily to himself and took a sip from his coffee. Only one more month until the agreed day…
In all honesty, he didn't have any problems with the agreement, being gay and all. He didn't know about Kyle, though. He was right when he said that all their breakups were because the people they were dating felt like they were ditching them (which was true). In fact, Stan and Kyle had decided long ago, when they graduated from high school, that they will marry the person who will make them ditch each other, like normal people do when they enter a steady relationship.
Stan knew that what he felt for Kyle wasn't what Kyle felt for him. He held to those feelings since he admitted his orientation to himself (when he thought about it, the attraction to Kyle came before the admittance…). He never talked to Kyle about them, primarily because Kyle was straight, and secondly, to him Kyle was someone to adore from afar, not someone to start a relationship with. He was almost too perfect, in Stan's opinion. So smart and handsome and sophisticated and just so damn special. Kyle was the first love of his life, a love that could not be tainted with sleazy thoughts, like a precious flower that must not be trampled. His love for Kyle was too pure to exist outside of his mind and heart, a love that he used to compare his feelings for other men to.
Just like their relationship that they compared to other relationships.
He wanted to think that Kyle was too damn drunk back then to remember, but he remembered what he whispered in his ear just minutes before he passed out, and added the (miserable) fact that Kyle, in all three years of college, had gone only to two (failed) dates, and it caused him to think that perhaps, he did remember. And really, college was the place to get a date, Stan himself had dated his fair share, but now he had no idea how Kyle was going to get a girl (at his work? Come on, he'd rather shoot himself than marry the forty-years-old secretary…)
If Kyle did, in fact, remember his words from back then… well… Stan didn't know what he'd do. Of course, to be with Kyle was something that he had to admit he was not completely against, but it was a very thin line between friendship and a romantic relationship, a line he wasn't sure he, or rather they, would be able to cross.
He sighed heavily to himself again, rubbing his temple harder. Kyle wouldn't remember, he was too drunk back then (and Stan wasn't sure if he should feel disappointed or not), so drunk, actually, that he couldn't even recall what exactly he had to drink that made him so. Stan could show it to him, of course. His signature was right there, written in black ink right next to his. That was a proof enough to his actions that night. Question was, did he want Kyle to remember? That was the question he agonized on for the past month. Why, oh why did he have to keep that stupid saucer? Kyle wouldn't remember anyway, and it will ruin the friendship they have if Kyle realized that Stan held some sort of feelings towards him (after all, he kept the damned thing).
How should he approach him on the subject, anyway, regardless of his indecisiveness on the matter? "Kyle, dude, remember that night when you got drunk and harassed old ladies at the bar? Yeah, that… remember what you said? The agreement? Here, I'll show you… Kyle, why are you crying?"
No, that wasn't a good idea…
"Say, Kyle, what would you say if I offered we… move in together? No, not like that! I mean… yeah, maybe, but it was your idea! Here, I'll show you… Kyle, why are you crying?"
No, that was a bad idea, as well…
"Say, Kyle, what do you think of agreements signed on paper saucers…?"
His cell phone's ringing cut his train of thought, and he smirked as his best friend's name glared back at him from the display screen. Speaking of the devil… "Hey dude," he said, smiling albeit his position.
"Stan!" he could hear the smile in the Jew's voice. "Guess what!"
"Afros are in again?" he could tell he caused Kyle to frown at that.
"No," he grumbled, "better than that!" the smile returned to his voice. "I have a date tonight!"
Stan wasn't entirely sure what caused him to drop the phone like that.
To Be Continued…?