Pairings: Curly Goth x Stan, CartmanxKyle, one-sided StanxKyle
Warning: Boys loving other boys. There, I spelled it out for you.
Rating: K+ for some language. (Subject to change)
Summary: Stans dad is a stupid man and a ditsy driver. One day, he even manages to hit someones car! Will the driver be angry? Of course!
WHY THIS IS HAPPENING: To fight against a pairing that I hate. And, no, it's not Style. cx I've written other CurlyxStan stuff, because this pairing must be taken more seriously!
Stan pressed his forehead against the icy window in his dad's car. He sat on the passenger's seat, listening to his father's rantings of his day to come.
"I need to talk to Gerald; he still has my GPS... I don't know his new number though... do you Stan? Could you ask Kyle?"
Stan nodded, eyes still gazing across the fast moving objects outside his window.
Kyle, oh Kyle. Stan had just started talking to him again after three weeks. The fight they had after Kyle had admitted that he and Eric-fucking-Cartman had been sleeping together had been astronomical.
The raven-haired boy had been in love with the Jew for years! And he had told Stan he was straight and even distanced himself after the love confession. It wasn't fair!
"I mean, I told Gerald to return that GPS WEEKS ago! Tweak and Tucker are expecting me to go with them TOMORROW! It's-"
The rambling was stopped by the vehicle jerking to an abrupt and violent halt. Father and son were thrown forward, both nearly colliding with the windshield.
"Holy shit, dad!! What the fuck!?" Stan said, his whole body shaking with terror. He managed to look forward. His father had smashed into the left side of a blue trail blazer.
He knew that car.....
"Oh my God!"
Once the words left the parents mouth, the driver's door of the blue car opened, and a VERY familiar teen stepped out. Slamming his door shut and shaking ash from a cigarette, the driver stormed over and rapped his knuckles against Randy's window.
Suddenly, the man's airbag burst open, sending him flying into the back of his seat. Stan could have sworn he even heard a loud crack from the impact.
Unfazed, the teen from the other car rapped on the window again, eyes glaring darkly and expectantly at Stan.
Randy pushed the bag down a little, revealing a broken nose. Covering it, he pushed his door open, nearly hitting the tall Gothic boy on the other side.
"What. The. Hell." The Goth stated, pronouncing each word separately to emphasize his point.
Stan managed to catch his breath enough to reply for his startled dad. "Evan, I'm so sorry. Is it still drivable?"
Goth teen looked over at his car and nodded. "You only got the side of it. I hope to hell your dumb ass old man is insured." He said, growling.
"Y-yeah.... I am..." Randy mumbled, still covering his nose. "But.... I think I need to go to the hospital..."
Stan then noticed a growing bump on his father's forehead. "D-dad! Do you want me to drive you?!"
The Goth boy rolled his eyes, "He'll be fine to drive his own goddamn self. I think we need to talk, Stan." He said the boys name with a curious tone that the other couldn't quite figure out.
"B- But my dad-"
"Is a stupid drunk moron who needs to learn to care for himself," the Goth interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Fucking conformist."
"He's not drunk... he's just stupid!" Stan said defensively... never-the-less, he still got out of the car, looking at the damage.
"I-I'll be fine Stan... You just go.. go to school...."
"You heard the conformist alcoholic. Now come."
Stan sighed, giving his father one last sympathetic look, before walking over to the new passenger side seat. "Be careful! Call me when you get there!!"
His dad nodded slowly and closed his door.
Evan remained silent, flicking the butt of his cigarette in a dirty snow bank before getting back in his car. Once seated, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and offered one to his new passenger.
Stan shook his head, still feeling awkward about the situation at hand. What did Evan want to talk about? The Curly Goth had even forgotten to get his dads information......
"So..." Evan muttered, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Stan couldn't help but notice that the Goth boy's hands were shaking, the cigarette just barely staying between his fingers.
"Y-yeah?" He replied quietly, pushing his hair back behind his ears. It was a nervous habit...
Evan fell silent again, eyes staring straight ahead at the deserted street. The Goth had yet to even start the car, though judging by his nervous posture that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. "How are things?" he finally said, refusing to look at Stan.
"Uh… Good… for the most part. You know, the usual drama… what about you?"
"Dylan's parents sent him to some happy sunshine private school run by that Mike Makowski's folks, Henri's sick with god knows what and Georgie hasn't made it to High School yet."
".... Sorry to hear that... And, uh, sorry about your car, too..." Stan cleared his throat, "We hardly ever talk any more, we should hang out sometime..."
"Are you still a football playing Jock?"
Stan sighed, irritated. "You don't have to be a prick about it… I'm just trying to be nice!" He quickly realized the error in what he said, though, and was quick to try and fix it. "I-I mean, I liked hanging out with you! I'm not any different then I was back then... I... Ugh..." He slumped down in his seat, crossing his arms. "Whatever."
"Whatever," the Goth repeated before taking a drag on his cigarette. Exhaling the smog in his lungs, he then buried his head in his hand. "Look, I'm trying to think of a way to say this that doesn't sound conformist."
"Hmm?" The so called 'football-playing-jock' raised an eyebrow, daring to look over at the tall, curly haired teen next to him.
"Of course, the subject at hand is, in itself, conformist, so I guess there's no way of saying it in a way that's non-conformist." The Goth sighed, shaking his head in obvious annoyance.
"Well? What is it?"
"Look, while you were... One of us, things got... What's a good, Goth word... Let's go with 'Fucked Up', that's good enough. Yeah, things got fucked up."
"F-fucked up?" Stan had the smallest hint of worry in his voice. What had he done now? He only seemed to repel people.... "What happened?"
"There's something about you, Raven. Something... Strangely attractive."
The other boy stayed quiet, feeling awkward sitting in the suddenly very large seat. He wanted it to swallow him whole.... He was what? That was impossible! "N-no.... You're just teasing me!! I know you're mad about your car, but… Jesus Christ!"
Evan seemed slightly shocked by Stan's outburst and met his eyes quickly.
He continued, "If I was at all attractive….. Kyle would have chosen me. But I'm obviously some sort of… of… He chose Cartman… Cartman, for God's sake!"
"Who cares about him?"
Stan bit his lip, turning his head to face the front. "I wanna go. Just get me to school."
The Goth boy grunted, starting his car. "I can't believe I even bothered telling you. God." He started in the general direction of the school. Looking at the clock, the boys would have known that there was no way they would be on time. But neither bothered to look.
Stan sighed, the beginnings of guilt starting to tug at his heart, "Sorry…" He mumbled.
Evan nodded, staying silent.
Eventually they ended up at school, (albeit, half an hour late) and went their separate ways.
This was something that was going to stick with Stan for quite some time.
xXx END xXx
Co-written with VexVulpes. :D Please go and check her out. She's got some good CuRed stories.
Sorry for the crappy rushed ending. I may or may not continue this. Dunno yet.
The nickname for this pairing is CuRaven. lol. I love it.