by icypinkpop

Pairing: Implied Cartman/Kyle

Disclaimer: Don't own South Park. Do own an almost-jewfro.

Authors Note/Warnings: Mostly a friendship fic, mixed in with a few highly suggestive slash nuggets and a little sap at the end. Just something I got the impulse to write. No deep themes here, folks.

STOP! Beware of: Fluff, insinuations, more Stendy references (-epic pukage-). This was meant to be about Stan and Kyle as friends, but interpret it as you like, Style fans. Oh, and I'm saying they're 18-ish here.

...I need more witty titles D:


"Talk about a workout."

Kyle Broflovski shook the water from his sopping red curls, tossing a towel at his best friend. "I didn't know you could swim like that. Remind me to never challenge you to a race again."

Stan smiled, wrapping the offered cloth around his shoulders as he made his way back inside the house. "Yeah, football helps," he shrugged, a grin sneaking its way onto his face. "And it's also a plus that you suck at sports."

"Shut up." The Jew gave his companion's arm a weak punch, unintentionally proving Stan's point as he drew his hand back and blew frantically at it. "Ow! What's your arm made of?" He shot his friend an annoyed glance, stepping into the bathroom and allowing his towel to fall to the floor, leaving him clothed in a pair of navy swim trunks.

"Steel," Stan replied smugly, proudly flexing his bicep as he watched Kyle step into the shower. He followed suit, drawing the curtain back and reaching for the nearest bottle of shampoo. "Thanks for inviting me over, dude. I'm surprised you have any time for me anymore."

Kyle turned around, confused. "What?"



The thinner of the two gave an embarrassed grin, cheeks pinkening under the hot stream of water. "Yeah, I-I guess we have been spending a lot of time together."

Stan laughed, lathering up raven locks as he leaned back against the tile wall. "A lot of time?" He raised a dark brow as if unconvinced. "Dude, you're all over each other like every second of every day. I'm surprised the schoolboard doesn't just kick you both out or something."

Another quiet 'shut up' was muttered as Kyle took the bottle of shampoo for himself, gaze directed at the floor. "You're one to talk," he eventually replied, rolling his eyes. "You and Wendy aren't exactly the most subtle couple either. You put Kenny and Tweek to shame."

"That's just 'cause Tweek spazzes out so much it's hard for Kenny to get a kiss in," Stan laughed out loud, jabbing his flushed companion in the arm. "But seriously, you and Cartman don't stop. The locker room's not even safe anymore. I bet you've even…"

Going silent, the dark-haired boy suddenly went white, blue eyes enormously wide.

"Dude," he finally managed to get out, expression a mix of shocked realization and nausea. "Don't-you guys haven't…done it in here, have you?"

Kyle went red, eyes darting to the side.

"Sick!" Hand clapped over his mouth, Stan immediately stepped away from the wall as if burned, going a rather sickly shade of green. "Why didn't you tell me I'm standing in Cartman splooge?!"

"The shower's clean, you moron," Kyle replied matter-of-factly, cheeks still pink as he allowed the showerhead to rinse the frothy suds from his hair. He chuckled. "It's your fault. You're the one who wanted to wash off after we went swimming."

Stan took a calming breath, deliberately keeping away from the walls. "Yeah, somewhere that hasn't been tainted by Cartman sex."

Kyle threw a soapy rag at taller boy's head. "What's wrong with Eric?" the Jew replied, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, yeah, he used to be an asshole and everything, but…he's good to me." An almost dreamy look fogged up in kelly green eyes.

This, however, was too much for Stan, whose fading viridian shade returned with a vengeance. It was enough of a surprise to know his best friend was gay after all these years, but this really took it over the top.

"I don't even wanna hear it, dude." He shook his head in an unsuccessful attempt to clear it of the images that had begun to build up, disturbed by the smitten expression on Kyle's face. "I still don't get what you find so good about him. Where is he, anyway? He practically lives here."

"I'm gonna call him and get him to come over later," Kyle replied, unable to hold his smile back. "My parents are gone until tomorrow, so we don't have to worry about that. My mom'd kill me."

Stan grabbed a scrub brush off the shower rack. "I don't blame her. That's the last thing I'd wanna walk in on." Shuddering, he passed the object to his friend, noting Kyle's expression with surprise. "What's wrong?"

The redhead leaned back against the wall, lip bit. "I just wish you'd get it," he said a bit glumly, previous humor apparently having departed.

"Heh, I think I get it," Stan laughed, expression smug as he tossed his head back. "I think it goes something like this. Oh, Cartman, oh Cartman!" Stifling a snicker, the taller continued his display, giving breathy yips and whines in a startlingly accurate imitation of Kyle's voice. "Do me, Cartman, you're so sexy!"

"C'mon, shut up."

"Oh, Cartman, you're so manly! Do it harder!"


"Cartman! Roll over me with your big fat-"


Eyes snapping open, Stan retained his composure just in time to see his best friend step quickly out of the shower and storm off into the hallway. Realizing the cause, he bit his lip abashedly and followed, turning off the showerhead as he went.

"Kyle, c'mon, don't be like that." The brunette watched his friend stop, turning to face him. He widened his eyes at the miserable expression on the Jew's face.

"Don't be like what? You don't get it!" Kyle crossed his arms, eyes narrowed with obvious frustration. A tear leaked down one side of his pale cheek. "It's not my fault I was born like this, Stan! I can't help it!"

"Born like…?" Stan paused. Oh. "I don't care that you're gay, dude," he assured in surprise, shaking his head back and forth in an effort to make his point. "I was just having fun. I didn't mean anything."

The redhead turned further away, refusing to meet Stan's gaze. "You don't know what it's like having to hide it from your parents," he replied glumly, hands shoved into the pockets of his swim trunks. "Y-you can tell your parents you're in love."

Stan went silent. Love? Kyle was in love with Cartman?

"Hey," he eventually got out, placing a hand on his companion's shoulder. "I'm-I'm really sorry, dude. I didn't know it went that…deep."

A mere moment of strained silence passed before Stan found himself locked in a tight hug, Kyle's chin on his shoulder.

"I love him, Stan," Kyle gave a weak smile of forgiveness, green eyes watery. "S-sorry. It's just really hard."

Stan held on for a moment before pulling away, nodding. "Yeah, I can tell." He gave his best attempt at a smile, hating seeing his friend in such a condition. "But you'll see him soon, right? It's not like-oh, shit!"

The Jew looked on in surprise, startled. "Huh?"

"I'm late for football!" Rushing frantically into the kitchen, Stan slipped his sport jacket over still-damp shoulders, returning to the livingroom. "I-I have to go. Um…" He paused, feeling a sudden stab of guilt as he tore his eyes away from his watch. "Unless you need me to stay until Cartman comes," he added quickly. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to think he was abandoning him.

To his surprise, Kyle just shot him a grin. "Nah, go ahead," he ushered, pulling open the front door and all but shoving his best friend outside. The Jew snickered, eyes gleaming suspiciously. "And I'll be sure to let you know the details of everything Eric and I do."

Going green for the umpteenth time, Stan gave his companion a gentle push, shuddering. "I think I'll be leaving now before he gets here and anything has a chance to happen," he shook his head, darting out onto the sidewalk and into his truck. With that final thought, the taller of the two gave a departing wave and drove off down the road, leaving Kyle behind.

A smile still playing over his lips, the redhead stepped back inside and placed his hand on the phone, lifting up the receiver.


-le swoon- That ending leaves quite a bit of room for imagination, no? X3 (Kyman forever)