Author's note: Yeah, the first South Park fanfic I actually decided to do anything with. It kinda sucks, but feel free to flame 'cuase I really don't care.
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park, or Kyle, or Stan, etc. etc. you all know how it goes.
"You goin' to the dance tonight?" Stan asked into the phone.
"Nah," Kyle replied, teasing a strand of his strawberry-red jewfro.
"Why not? It's gonna be fun, dude!" Stan pressed.
"No, reason," Kyle lied, "I just don't feel like going, that's all."
Stan smirked, Kyle was a terrible liar and he knew it. "C'mon, what's the real reason?"
The real reason? Is that what you want Stan? Oh, let's try 'I can't stand seeing you dance and lock lips with that stupid slutty bitch Wendy anymore! If I see you make out once more I swear I'm gonna hurl. "Well, are you sure you wanna know why?"
"Yeah, just tell me!" Stan begged.
Kyle let out a sigh and lied, "I'm a terrible dancer."
It was enough to fool Stan. "Dude, that's just stupid," he teased and Kyle almost thought he'd get caught in his lie. "Just come over to my house now and I'll teach you."
Kyle quite nearly had a heart attack. "A-alright, I'll be over soon. Bye," he hung up and hastily dug through his dresser for something to compliment his thin frame. He finally decided on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and the forest green sweater that Stan had given him for his birthday a few months ago.
He ran a comb through his ferocious red locks, brushed his teeth and flew out the door with barely enough time to say goodbye to his parents.
"Wait boobehlah! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" His over protective mother yelled as he opened the door.
"Stan's house, be back by 11," he called, standing in the open doorway, slightly annoyed by his mother.
She paused, "Alright, but only because it's Stan you're going off with, don't think that you can be going off with girls or anything!" Mom, you don't even know, Kyle chuckled to himself as walked into the crisp mountain air and shut the door behind him.
Kyle had had a crush on Stan since about fourth grade, but didn't know that it was a crush until about sixth grade. He thought he did a pretty good job at hiding it even though everyone thought he was as fruity as a fucking fruit salad. Well, there was always Stan, he still didn't know.
Kyle rushed to the Marshs' house and rung the doorbell. Stan answered and his heart soared. Stan was clad in a navy blue sweater and loose jeans not too different from Kyle's.
"Hey Kyle," Stan greeted cheerfully.
"Hey Stan," Kyle returned and stared for perhaps a little too long into Stan's captivating deep blue eyes.
"Let's get started," Stan began and motioned Kyle to come in. "My parents aren't home and Shelly's with some guy."
"Ha! Really? Who would date her?" Kyle breathed between giggles.
"I dunno, some loser, but that doesn't really matter," Stan seemed in a hurry and slightly restless.
They moved to the living room and Stan fished out his old boom box and found some slow, sappy music. Truth be told, his heart was beating a million times per second and he had no idea why. He had only ever felt like that around Wendy, but strangely not as much recently. Could he be…
NO! Stan thought loudly in his head. He closed his eyes tight and shook his head searching for an Etch-A-Sketch effect and the thought of Kyle would disappear from his mind. He's my best friend, correction, my super best friend. I couldn't like him like that, could I?
"You okay, dude?" Kyle asked, noticing Stan's perplexed expression.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Stan replied hastily and blew a lock of coal black hair from his eyes. "Let's, uh, get started." Stan pressed play on the boom box and the sound of some washed up boy-band drifted into their ears.
Kyle moved a bit closer and awkwardness ensued. But not for long; Stan pulled Kyle's thin, pale frame closer to his toned one. Kyle instinctively reached up and wrapped his arms around Stan's broad shoulders and drew him closer. Stan's arms were resting on the small hips that Kyle had. They moved together, getting closer and closer until there was no possible way to get any closer, unless… Blue eyes met green ones and Stan spontaneously pushed his face lightly against Kyle's. Their noses touched and rubbed together.
When the song ended, Stan grinned and said, "You're pretty good for not knowing how to dance.
Kyle blushed and sheepishly returned, "It felt pretty natural."
Another slow song started up and Stan drew Kyle close once again. He had never felt so right with another person, not even Wendy. Oh. My. God! I do like Kyle like that. Where the hell did that come from?
Kyle snuggled up into the crook of Stan's neck and breathed in his familiar smell. Stan officially towered one whole inch over Kyle, so there wasn't much of a height difference, but at that moment he felt larger than life itself.
Stan rested his head on Kyle's and soaked up the smell of Herbal Essences in Kyle's fiery curls. "I love you." It surprised both of them. What the fuck did I just say? Man, I'm a dumb fuck.
As much as it came to Kyle as a stunning shock –a pleasant one, mind you, but still a shock- he cooed, "I love you, too," without missing a beat.
Stan pulled back a bit, but only to kiss the young Jew on the forehead. The song ended and Stan stepped back a bit. Kyle's arms fell from their comfortable position around Stan's strong shoulders, to his side. Not nearly as comfortable, he thought sadly. Then Stan took both of his hands and laced them in Kyle's.
"I don't think we should go to the school dance," Stan murmured and pulled Kyle close for the start of another slow song. "We've got our own right here."