This is my newest fic. Hopefully people will enjoy it. I know I enjoyed coming up with these ideas, haha.
Okay, so let's get this over with-
I don't not own South Park or any of its characters. In fact, I own hardly anything at all... sigh...
This does have homosexual themes, so if you don't like it, don't read.
This also has some mature themes, but not so vivid that it becomes disturbing. I just thought I'd add it in just in case.
Please Read and Review! Thankly muchly! Now, ENJOY!!
Stanley Marsh drooped low to his desk, covering half of his face with his arms as they folded lazily over the faux wood. He was barely awake, propped up only by the curve of his spine and the solid desk in front of him. His eyes became heavy and he blinked hard in a vain attempt to knock the sleepiness from the glazed over orbs.
The Algebra teacher was yapping away with fervor, waving his meter stick wildly in the air. Stan had to admit that the man's passion for math was staggering and somewhat… deflating. Stan felt as if he was just being talked at instead of actually being taught. He glanced slowly at the paper beneath his arms and noted with no surprise what so ever that the page was entirely blank. Mr. Brozeski didn't slow down enough for him to keep up anyway.
The Junior yawned and stared absently at his raven colored bangs as they fell in shocks from his tired head. He took a moment to examine the rest of his body, finding it worlds more interesting than the Xs and Ys floating around on the board. Stan still played football to this day and worked out regularly, but still couldn't get over the lanky plateau that prevented him from furthering his muscle development. He sighed as he realized that he would be tall and thin and not so defined for the rest of his life.
Suddenly, a paper fluttered from above him out of nowhere and Stan had to choke down a gasp or risk disrupting the class. After the initial shock went away, the teen finally managed with a groan to bring life back to his arms long enough to unfurl the paper and read it.
"You really should stay awake, you'll get in trouble."
With a snort, Stan chucked the paper back over his shoulder. Kyle was too much sometimes. He knew that Stan had insomnia problems and had no trouble staying awake… at two in the morning at least.
"Hey!" Kyle hissed sharply as the crumpled ball landed once again onto his desk. Stan smirked with his eye lids half closed as he heard the ruffling of paper behind him. He knew that his best friend was expecting a reply. True enough, the harsh whisper returned. "You could at least write something back, dude."
"I can't move my arms, I have leprosy," Stan mumble back, not sure if Kyle could even hear him.
"Leprosy; that's a new one," the red head scoffed. "However, Leprosy has nothing to do with the paralysis of your arms, you know."
"On a scale of 1 to nerd…?" Stan began, turning around just enough to lay eyes on his friend. "Nerd."
"Call me what you want, but I'm right," Kyle gloated. He shoved the paper and pencil into Stan's face and demanded. "Write something."
"But we're talking now, there's no point in writing!" The other boy started to turn toward the front of the class again, but a sharp tug to his ear caused him to whip back around. "OW! What?!" he shrieked, maybe a little too loudly.
The only reply was having a piece of paper once again being shoved at him. "God, you're so stubborn, you know that?"
"I'm not the only one," chuckled Kyle, seeing that he got his way for once. Stan returned the smile when he sat up with a start. He clutched his chest and his face contorted briefly into a look of shock. "Hey, dude… what's the matter?"
"Nothing, nothing," Stan assured quickly, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. "My chest hurts for some reason, that's all." He glanced again toward Kyle, making eye contact, only to have his heart lurch painfully again. This time, he couldn't keep it down and actually let out a small yelp.
"Dude, that's a really big nothing!" Kyle gasped, half standing out of his desk.
"What's wrong, ladies?" Mr. Brozeski asked fiercely, slapping his meter stick against the chalk board with a resonating snap.
"I think Stan is sick," Kyle informed, his voice taking on a worried tone. "He might be having a heart attack. Can we go to the nurse?"
The teacher stood still for a minute, trying to judge whether this was just another ploy to get out of his class a little early. "Can't it wait till my lesson's done?"
"Fine, get out of here. But I expect you to have your homework done. Both of you."
As they walked down the hall, Stan grasped his chest as his heart pounded even harder. He was slumped against Kyle, who was supporting him as they made their way to the nurse's office. Their footsteps echoed in the eerily empty halls, the bland tile of the high school causing their sneakers to squeak.
"Are you sure you're alright, Stan?" Kyle asked, his words quivering as they fell upon his best buddy's ears.
"I don't know," the dark haired boy answered honestly. "These attacks have been happening more and more frequently ever since I hit puberty."
"You think it could be some kind of recessive disease that's finally occurring?"
"Okay," Stan spat. "Once again: nerd alert."
"This is serious, dude! I'm actually concerned for you and all you do is call me a nerd?"
Stan readjusted himself onto Kyle's shoulder. "If the boot fits…." He laughed hoarsely, always enjoying pushing Kyle's buttons. Soon the other boy joined in, understanding that it was all in good humor. Their laughs spread swiftly through the halls and filled them with their joviant sound.
"Wow, I can hear your heart, man!" Kyle said with a start. "Even from over here. Geeze! You'd better get well soon."
The two of them had been friends since they were in kindergarten. Looking back on it now, it was amazing how long that period of time actually was. And sure, there was Kenny and Cartman, but those two didn't even come close to being like the friends Stan and Kyle were. They knew everything about each other; every secret they ever knew.
But now these attacks…. Stan was starting to get worried. He only got them when he was around Kyle, and they were intensifying each day. "Maybe I'm allergic to him," Stan murmured, his words muffled by Kyle's bony shoulder.
"What was that?" the red head asked.
"I said, 'Leprosy sucks.'"
When they finally reached the office, Kyle set Stan down onto a nearby stool, the black haired teen shivering from the cold of the steel. He already missed the warmth of Kyle's arms. A red shade crept over his face as Stan began to day dream, but was rudely brought back to reality by the nurse.
"Thank you Kyle, you can go back to class now," she insisted.
"Can't I stay and-"
"Your studies are important too, young man. Stan will be fine in my care." And with that, the woman practically threw Kyle back into the hallway. "So, what seems to be the matter?"
"My chest… well," Stan began, but after feeling his heart beat again, he furrowed his brow in confusion. "Well, my chest did hurt, but… it doesn't anymore."
"Mm-hmm," the nurse confirmed, nodding half heartedly. "What do you think it was? Gas?"
"No, I- I've had that before," Stan admitted with a little embarrassment. "This was different. It was like my heart was pounding too hard and was going to rip out of my chest."
"Mm-hmm," the nurse repeated, looking over some papers, flipping them across her clipboard. "I know personally that you are a patient that has strange illnesses. Particularly when you're under stress. You would periodically go to the nurse's because you vomited often, even back in elementary school. And you still do, sometimes, if but a little less frequently."
Stan rolled his eyes. He knew where this was going.
"And when asked why you threw up, you would always answer 'It's that-'"
"It's that bitch, Wendy," Stan finished, resting his elbow on the counter and laying his head in his palm. "Yeah, I know all that."
"Well, the way I see it," the nurse continued. "Is that you are a perfectly healthy young boy who just has panic attacks when he's around… the ladies." For some reason, she tried to emphasize the "lady" part and wiggled her eyebrows as if implying something. Adults could be so stupid….
"But," Stan began, speaking out loud more to himself than to anyone. "I only get these attacks when I'm with Kyle."
The nurse snapped her head up so quickly that Stan thought her neck would break. "You w-w-what?"
"Yeah, I only ever get these pains in my chest when I'm around my friend, Kyle."
The nurse rapidly flipped through her papers, her eyes darting across the pages frantically. Stan had no idea what she was looking for, and was pretty sure that she had no idea either. "This… um… well, you see Stan- wait. Sometimes, in a young man's life he- no, that's not right. Argh, why am I always the one who has to say these things?"
"What? What?!" Stan asked, nervously straightening out his back and inching closer to the nurse.
"Okay, I'll look into this a little more," she stated briefly. "I want you to avoid your friend Kyle for a while. See if the attacks stop at all." She placed her hand on her chin and spoke now more to herself than Stan. "We can't jump to any conclusions…."
Stan leaned back, trying to let it all soak in, completely confused by what the nurse was saying. He jolted upright with a start when the bell rang for his next class and walked in a confused daze back into the hall.
All day he had avoided Kyle, but none the less, anytime he thought of the red headed beauty, Stan's heart would pound harder in his chest. When the final bell rang, he walked absently through the school, not wanting to go home. He and Kyle were supposed to meet at his house but now… Stan didn't really want to.
"Oh, hey Stan!" called a familiar voice, and Stan looked up to see Butters waving his hand in the air as if to announce his presence. "What's up?"
"Hi Butters…" the black haired boy mumbled drearily. A thought suddenly entered his mind and before he knew it, his mouth was open and talking. "Butters… you're gay right?"
"So you would know about um… gay stuff, right?"
Butters paused a look of confusion and frustration shadowing his face. "…I'm not gay."
"What's that one club? I've heard it on the announcements before. You know, that G.A.A.," Stan started, completely ignoring the other boy. "No, G.A.S.; Gay Agenda… Sodomy, or something like that?"
"Oh, heheh," Butters chuckled swatting Stan's shoulder playfully. "You mean the G.S.A.? Gay Straight Alliance."
"Yeah! That one!" Stan brushed his tousled bangs from his eyes.
"Well, uh, me and Bradley were just about to go there. You wanna tag along?"
Stan raised an eyebrow. He looked to Butters' left and saw another boy that he didn't even realize was standing there. It must have been Bradley. Stan watched as the teenager shifted nervously back and forth on his feet and bit his fingernails. He had
golden hair that shimmered in the pulsing lights of the high school and equally golden eyes. Bradley was constantly averting his gaze, avoiding eye contact at any cost.
"W-what, is he you're boyfriend?" Stan asked bluntly. Butters didn't seem to get annoyed, but he did heave out a sigh.
"Well, um, I'm not gay, so…." Stan looked down, his eyes mooned over with suspicion. The two blonde juniors were holding hands….
"Yeah, sure Butters. Whatever, let's just go."
"I am," Bradley whispered, his voice blocked slightly by his hand. But he was too late and too quiet as Stan brushed passed him without even giving a second glance.
Once they were at the meeting, Stan felt like an outsider. He sat in a hard plastic chair that was two sizes too small for him; like it was meant for an elementary student. While he sat, the other kids mingled and laughed with each other, leaving the new kid in the corner. Stan was surprised to find that they were almost all girls. They each took turns talking about their problems, their parents, and other stories. Almost like normal kids!
They went entirely around the room, and would have missed Stan if Butters hadn't spoken up. "Well, hey fellas! Bradley just wanted everybody to know that we have a new person joining our club. Stan."
"Um, thanks Butters?" Now that it was his turn… with all eyes set upon him… the heat of their stares upon his brow… he wasn't sure whether he wanted to talk or not. Stan heart lurched as he thought of the one thing he never wanted to think about again: Kyle.
Stan's aqua eyes glazed over in thought. "Um… I'm not a gay. And I can understand how you might not want me in your club…."
"Not at all!" interrupted a random girl. "This is the Gay Straight Alliance, after all."
"I-" Stan started hesitantly, still trying to grasp the words zipping through his head at unimaginable speeds. "You know? I never really thought about homosexuals that much before. I always mistook them for people who were confused about their gender. That they wanted to… become the opposite sex. I didn't realize that they were normal people who just want to love who they want."
Stan paused to look around the room. "When I hear your stories and see you're faces… I see kids my own age who are willing to go through hardships together. But… I don't think I'm strong enough for that. I don't think I'm ready to face my own demons, let
alone help other people with theirs. I understand that I'm weak… and that I still have a lot to learn."
A solemn silence wafted over them all as the words penetrated into their very souls. "Wow, Stan," Butters finally chimed in. "That was very mature!'
"Ha," the black haired child snickered, looking away with embarrassment. "You really think so? Kyle is usually the mature one."
As if on queue, the door squeaked open timidly and a hushed voice called in. "Stan?" it whispered. "Stan, you in here?"
Stan got up, recognizing Kyle's voice and smiled to the rest of them. "Gotta go now. Hope to see you guys some other time." As the teenager walked out of the room, a hand laid itself heavily on his shoulder and dragged him into the hall.
"Fuck, dude!" Kyle shrieked, his voice cracking a little. "What were you doing in there with all those fags, man? You could have been-" Kyle stopped mid sentence as he realized what he was about to say. That was a subject never to be discussed….
Fortunately, Stan's mind was on something else. "Did you just call them fags?" Stan growled, straightening himself to his full height.
"Well… yeah, but…" Kyle admitted, looking confused. "That's what they are... aren't they? You know, gay wads. But anyway, weren't we supposed to go over to your house and play video games or something?"
"We have homework tonight," Stan corrected, returning to his usual demeanor, slouching down and letting his shoulders roll back.
"Yeah, but we can always do it later! C'mon!" Kyle took Stan by his hand and pulled him outside into the warm sunlight. Stan's heart pounded again, but he couldn't help but smile. Something about holding his best friend's hand just seemed… right.