Hi! This is another one for Stan and Kyle! I hope you all like the first chapter; all reviews are cherished and thank you to all of my consistent SP readers. You guys are the best! X3 Hope you like chapter one!
"Why are you so good at English?"
The redhead rolled his eyes, "Because I speak it."
Kenny sighed loudly from Kyle's floor, "This is retarded, why do we even need to learn Biochemistry, this is fucking gay."
"Shut up, Kenny, you're just making homework more painful." Cartman groaned, dropping his face into his textbook.
Kyle huffed, "The teachers just suck in South Park, it's not the classes. I mean…they give out homework every day and that's stupid, because then the kids are exhausted by the weekend and don't care enough to study for tests and quizzes which drops over all averages. It's all about timing and strategy with teaching, and the South Park school district seriously lacks…all that…"
"Shut the fuck up, Kyle." Cartman complained.
"You shut up, fat ass."
Stan touched Kyle's shoulder, gaining his visual focus before encouraging,
"It's okay, Kyle, I hear where you're coming from. You'd make a really good teacher."
The redhead flustered, "You really think so?"
"Totally. You'd be a perfect teacher."
Cartman picked up his disheveled and page-imprinted face and mocked in a high-pitched voice,
"Oh—wah-ow—tancks, Stahn, yewr sew amayzing!"
"Shut up, fat boy!"
"AYE! I'M NOT FAT!"
Kenny made a twisted expression, "Hey, Kyle, you know what genital warts look like?"
The blonde frowned, "Dang, I think I have them."
"That girl from North Park probably gave it to you last week. You should call her and tell her to get tested." Stan offered as Kyle seemed disgusted.
"Fuck, I don't have her number…I don't even know her name…"
"That's seriously fucked up, dude." Kyle mentioned, tucking his face into his folded arms.
The immortal teenager stood up, announcing, "I'm leavin', I couldn't give a shit about my homework if I tried…I've got a date anyway; I'll talk to you guys later."
"Don't give anything itchy and cruel to any sweet, innocent girls, Kenny!" Stan chided as the boy left.
Cartman's chubby face was planted in his palm, on the floor facing Kyle's bed where Stan was lying beside the Jew. The heavy boy sighed,
"Not that this isn't totally a blast, but I think I'm goin' home too. I've got more devious arrangements to plot than…" He glanced to the textbook page he had been staring blankly at for the past two hours, "…than the epic failure of some short French guy's invasion of Russia."
"Napoleon Bonaparte." Kyle stated from under his arms.
The boy stood and gathered his things, leaving only minutes later.
"You leaving too?"
"Huh?" Stan glanced to his friend.
"I said, 'are you leaving too'?"
Kyle looked up from his arms, one of his brows sinking as he inquired, "What do you mean 'of course'?"
"I know there's been something on your mind, Kye. You know I can always tell. I thought I'd stay over tonight and force it out of you."
The bookworm reddened, hiding his freckles in powdered shades of scarlet before stammering,
"I-I…how do you always know?"
The athlete smirked, looking away shortly as he listed, "Well, you get all different. I mean, you're shy, Kyle and even though you don't mean it to be, it's endearing, but when you're hiding something, your shy side becomes more of a nervous side. Rather than timid, you get anxious. And when you're upset you use different shampoos; I can tell cause your hair is darker or lighter depending on which one you switch for…not only that, your concentration slips a lot and you lick your lips a lot…need more? I've got a whole list…"
Kyle couldn't help the fact that he was warmed learning how observant his best friend was. It flattered him almost, made his heart flutter. He looked up at the boy from under his lashes in the adorable way he did that, unbeknownst to Kyle, made Stan's heart race.
"So? What's been bugging you?"
Kyle blushed and broke eye-contact, beginning, "I just…I…I'm scared to tell you…"
The ebony-haired boy tilted his head worriedly, "Really? It's me, dude…I mean…need I say more?"
Kyle smirked, but it died as quickly as it formed before he muttered, "I know…but I think that's why I'm having so much trouble telling you…you…"
He met his jade eyes with the enchanting indigo of Stan's as he pleaded, "You…do you promise…not to think any differently of me?"
"Of course; you're my best friend, Kye, my super best friend…I wouldn't change that for the world…"
The insecurity and vulnerability was foreign to Kyle's voice and eyes, thus Stan was very concerned. It was charming, but anything involving Kyle was charming. The beautiful teenager seemed so nervous, so scared that rejection was already illuminating from his worried eyes. The quarterback smiled gently,
"Yeah, really. So tell me."
He sighed, "Fine…"
There was a long moment of silence before Kyle continued shakily, "Stan…I…I…I think I might…I think I might be…be…"
"I think…uhm…I think I might be…be…uhm…gay."
Both boys fell silent again; Stan was not shocked, however. He wasn't even disturbed by it. Kyle wasn't very feminine; in actions or looks, but there was still a girlish side to him that had been sprouting out since middle school. It never bothered Stan, he had grown to love that side, actually. When Stan had a rotten day, Kyle would go home with him and bake him brownies or cookies or something just as good, he would turn on a good movie on the Scifi channel and finish half of his homework load for him. He was inhumanly beautiful. Even Stan had come to terms with that fact; Kyle was a gorgeous human being. Track and basketball made his body lean and strong, but it was only athletic-looking as his diabetes-oriented diet kept him scrawny and lanky-looking. He had big, dazzling, emerald eyes that were occasionally draped over by his silky locks; they were thick and larger now. When he was younger, all of his curls were tiny and resembled banana-curls, but now that he was older, they had calmed into twenty or so curls, all thick and falling over each other like a waterfall of marmalade. His lashes and brows matched his fiery locks and that was something Stan loved. His body was virtually hairless; Kyle had always been sad about that, but it went with his OCD cleanliness. His face was sharp, boyish and completely symmetrical, carved to perfection from his hairline to his chin; oh, and his lips. They were thick, almost heavy and they sat on his pointed features like a colossal rose in a field of breath-taking tulips; it was perfection perfecting perfection. They were enticing; Kyle had won over 'straight' men before with those lips. There was something captivating about them. Even Stan found himself staring from time to time, but he never so much as mentioned that. He didn't want to scare his friend away by filling his head with meaningless thoughts.
"Yeah? How did you…figure it out?"
"Uhm…my lack of lust for vagina, maybe?"
"O-oh…uhm…yeah, that sounds pretty gay. I mean that…in the homosexual way…not the…mean way…"
Kyle chuckled nervously, "You don't have to act like that around me, Stan, I'm still me, I don't care if you say gay…honestly, I was just scared you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore."
Stan shot his eyes to the boy, easily overpowering him as he threw himself on Kyle, pinning him by his thin wrists to the bed before stating with an intense glare,
"You don't ever say that, Kyle. I will always be your friend. You don't think that and you don't feel that and you don't say that. I don't care if you're gay, if you're a girl, if you're Jewish, Asian or purple, it doesn't matter. Nothing, especially your sexual preferences, are gonna take me away, okay?"
Kyle flustered at feeling Stan's heart pounding against his own; he wondered how Stan always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better. He wondered how Stan always found the right words, always knew how to sound eloquent and intelligent without being overly so. He found himself slightly dazed by Stan's fierce stare; his eyes were an aquamarine so inviting that he was soon drowning in the ocean of ecstasy they offered him. They were so beautiful, contrasting between his soft complexion and his ebony hair. He didn't want to admit to his best friend that he was the reason Kyle realized he was gay; he didn't want to scare away his best friend. But who could truly blame him? Stan was tall, athletic, smart and understanding, he was soft-spoken in front of strangers and he respected the rules even when he broke them. He was a perfect blend of every medium, but somehow everything was extreme with Stan; Kyle never found himself bored around Stan. And although he thought Stan was far more handsome than himself, he found comfort in the fact that Stan still looked pre-pubescent like him; in that he still wasn't as hairy as his father. He always assumed Stan would get his father's hairy chest, arms, legs and face, but rather, Stan ended up with his mother's make-up; meaning, completely stripped of any hair. It was something that peaked Kyle's attraction, but it was something unique they both shared physically and it deemed Stan the only human being that Kyle could feel comfortable in front of when undressing. Stan's face was manly, but at the same time, soft; rounded, youthful face with those baby-blue eyes that charmed Kyle. He blushed more deeply, admiring his beautiful friend before answering,
"O-okay. I'm sorry I doubted you."
The athlete dropped his dead weight onto Kyle, making the redhead grunt as he collapsed onto his chest, yawning,
"You better be. But…I'm glad you could come out to me, Kye. I'm happy you can trust me so much."
"I'm glad you're not freaked out."
"Of course not. Just don't cross-dress. That'll freak me out."
Kyle scoffed and Stan felt the rise in the boy's chest as he breathed out, "As if. I'm gay, that doesn't mean I've lost my balls. And you never know, Stan, imagine my hair pinned back, a little white nurse hat on top my head, some white fishnet stockings, red heeled boots with buckles and tight, sexy little dress; you never know what might get you going till you see it."
"Are you insinuating that you dressed up like that will get me hot?" Stan teased.
He could hear the anxious smile in Kyle's voice when he retorted, "Are you insinuating that you would get hot at my being dressed up like that by asking me if I'm insinuating that you'd get hot at my being dressed up like that?"
"That's what I thought."