Summary: Stan's thrown off balance when he accidentally comes out to his parents. Meanwhile, Kyle's parents just wish he'd show interest in anyone.
Rated: T for swearing and sensuality
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or its characters. Matt and Tray do, God bless them. I make no money, it's all just for fun.
Warning: Contains slash. You have been warned.
Received Fri 11:32 p
can i cum ovr
Sent Fri 11:34 p
Dude, it's almost midnight. Can this wait until
Received Fri 11:34 p
Kyle Broflovski let out an irritated breath and rolled his eyes as he carefully placed a bookmark between the pages of his book that he was sure wouldn't get touched again tonight, and put it on his side table before replying to his best friend's texts one more time.
Sent Fri 11:36 p
Okay, but you will have to climb through the
window. I don't want my parents to know you're
coming over this late at night.
Now that the waiting game had begun he figured it would be in everyone's best interests if he put some shorts on over his boxers. He also unlocked his window. Stan would probably appreciate that even more than him wearing clothes. His socked feet padded over to his bed and he sat back, relaxing and wondering what was so important that Stan couldn't wait until the morning. It was Friday night. It wasn't like they had school tomorrow. He was so close to finishing his book.
A few minutes later he heard the telltale grunting and rustling that signaled Stan was climbing up the side of his house. It only took moments for the raven haired young man to shove the window open and flop into the room gracelessly. "Thanks for opening the window for your best friend, midget, " Stan panted as he rolled over and got up, pulling his hoodie over his head and throwing it casually into the floor before flopping down on the bed next to Kyle.
"Shoes," Kyle ordered, making sure the size twelve sneakers did not dirty his blanket, "and I am not a midget, you jolly green giant."
Stan pulled off his shoes and threw them in the direction of the hoodie before making himself completely comfortable beside his best friend, grinning, "You're only a couple inches away, Kye. Better drink your milk. And just because I'm eleven inches taller than you doesn't make me a giant. You're just a shorty."
Kyle glared at the jock, running his fingers through his close cropped, tightly curled hair. "So you came over to make fun of me or what?" he muttered tiredly. His best friend's expression faded into one of misery at the incredibly relevant comment. Kyle would've felt bad if Stan hadn't just got done ripping on him.
"I accidentally came out to my parents tonight," Stan finally admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
Kyle felt his brows knit together in confusion. "Dude, they didn't know you're bi already?" The dark headed teenager beside him rolled over onto his stomach and planted his face into his hands before lolling his head back and forth in the negative. Kyle watched the reaction beside his lap and rolled his eyes again before sighing deeply, "And why didn't they know already?"
Turquoise eyes peaked out from between fingers. "Why would I? It's not like I've ever dated a guy before!"
True. It had pretty much been Wendy on and off since the dawn of time. It hadn't even mattered when Stan had told Kyle that he was pretty sure he was attracted to guys in middle school. It hadn't changed anything. Stan had still stuck with Wendy. It was just easier that way, and Stan did like Wendy. Kyle could care less who Stan was attracted to. He was still Stan, his super best friend that would die when he died. They were pretty much stuck together forever.
Kyle actually felt weirder about the fact that he simply wasn't interested in sex, be it with a male or female. He tended to avoid possible relationships. "So how'd it happen?" he asked conversationally, scooting over and pulling down the blankets for his friend to climb under. Stan was obviously staying the night.
The two got comfortable in silence, turning out the lights and facing each other. Kyle's mom had finally gotten him a full sized bed for his sixteenth birthday a year ago. It was nice actually having a bed that could comfortably fit two teenage boys. Cartman had ragged on him for days for getting a fucking bed for his birthday, but Stan had smiled warmly. They both knew the gift would benefit the both of them. Cartman could rag all he wanted. In the end it was a useful gift and Kyle had punched the fat boy in the nose, effectively shutting him up.
"It was fucked up, dude. We were watching a movie and I commented on one of the actors. It was like nothing! But suddenly my mom was giggling and my dad had jumped off the couch, pointing at me in horror. I hadn't even thought! I never watch movies with my parents! It's always you, and you never care what I say…"
Kyle took the dying words to signal the end of Stan's little rant, and the boy took a moment to mull the story over in his mind. "So your mom seems not to care. What did your dad do?" he finally asked.
In the dark Stan snorted. "He asked me a bunch of questions like 'was I sure' and 'what about Wendy' and 'was it because of what he and your dad did in the hot tub', whatever the hell that means. I told him I still like girls. Then he was fine. It sounds like it went well, but dude, it was traumatic."
"At least your parents aren't on your back all the time," Kyle answered, "Mom's always asking me when I'm going to introduce her to a 'special someone'. She's even asked me if I was dating you secretly." Instead of the laugh he expected, Kyle was replied with a beat of silence.
"…What'd you tell her?"
"Nothin'. That you were dating Wendy."
Oh? Kyle wondered what that meant. It was the obvious answer.
"You know, if your mom ever gets on your back you can just tell her you are. Dating me, that is. If it makes things easier on you. I know you don't care about relationships."
Fuckin' weird, man. Kyle decided that Stan might actually be traumatized from his accidental coming out.
"I mean we wouldn't actually be dating. It would just be to get your mom off your back…"
Was Stan still rambling? "Yeah…of course, dude." When no more craziness spouted from the darkness in Stan's direction Kyle decided to take advantage of the moment. "Well let's get some sleep, dude. Good night," he muttered and rolled over, putting his back to his best friend.
Stan laid as still and silent as a rock, wishing he would stop breathing and just become a rock. What kind of stupid asshole was he? The fuck was coming out of his mouth tonight? Was it some kind of special full moon? The Stan-needs-to-spout-off-crazy-shit full moon that only comes once every millennia? He tried to calm his mind by listening to the even breaths of his best friend.
It didn't help that much.
His mind replayed his offer over and over again. Stan wasn't just being a good friend…well he was that too, but that wasn't it. Five years of silently ignoring a love for his best friend that was a little more than friendly, that was just being a good friend. Making sure no one messed with Kyle when they first got into high school, that was being a good friend. Not that Kyle needed his protection. The little guy could fight. Making sure all the skanks kept their paws off his best friend, who was obviously not interested in any of them, that was being a good friend…
Who was he kidding?
Stan didn't like all guys. He had preferences. He preferred the five foot two, hundred and ten pound, redheaded, nerdy soccer player kind of guys. He preferred the kind of guys that insisted on doing the right thing because it was right, and was always one step behind when it came to fashion and what was popular, the kind of guys that had to push their black plastic framed glasses up their nose while reading a book.
Stan had to face it. There just weren't too many of those kind of guys in South Park. Hell, the only one he even knew existed anywhere was asleep next to him. And it was just his luck that his preference in guys was embodied in not only his best friend, but his, as far as he could tell, completely asexual best friend.
He was glad that he wasn't as picky with girls. Any girl was okay. He had stuck faithfully by Wendy because she was okay with his sexual preferences and didn't mind that he wasn't ready for sex. The fact that they were both the class presidents and he was captain of the football and soccer teams probably didn't hurt either.
Stan realized that he was running his fingers through his long dark hair absentmindedly. It was the one thing Kyle made fun of him for. Dude, that is totally queer, Kyle's voice echoed through his head. Stan never mentioned that Kyle did it, too, when he sat in front of him on the couch during movies. He was afraid Kyle would stop.
Stan lifted his head to glance over his sleeping friend at the digital clock. 12:43 am. It was time to go to sleep. The midget would wake him up way too early for comfort. He always did so that Stan could go back to his own house before their parents knew he was gone. He closed his eyes with a fond smile. Kyle was the best friend a guy could have.
If only he wanted more…
...Stan woke to the smell of syrup and veggie breakfast meats. He smiled fondly at the thoughtfulness before jerking awake.
Kyle hadn't woke him up.
Kyle hid his grin when his best friend cautiously crept into the kitchen. He carelessly slid a cup of black coffee at the bewildered boy, still in his jeans and t-shirt from last night. He cut Stan off when he opened his mouth to speak, "I called your mom this morning and told her you were here. She said your dad would drop your truck by when they go to the store. It's piss pouring outside."
Stan nodded dumbly, warming his hands on the hot mug he was holding. The clock on the microwave blinked 9:13.
Kyle busied himself with sliding a plate of pancakes and veggie sausage in his friend's direction, putting the syrup on the counter and rinsing the dirty dishes in the sink. Finally he stood with his own plate across the island counter from his friend to eat. Stan hadn't started yet. He always waited on Kyle. Kyle rolled his eyes and switched their plates so that Stan's was the hot one.
"You'll make someone a wonderful wife one day," Stan joked, pouring a liberal amount of syrup over his entire breakfast.
"Thanks douche, keep an eye out for a good man, will ya?" Kyle retorted, taking the syrup and squirting just a little on the side of his plate. His diabetes kept his sweet tooth at bay. Stan snorted and choked on his food, spitting up his mouthful onto the side of the plate. "Eww, gross, dude!" Kyle scrunched his features and picked up his plate like the choked up food was going to try and crawl its way onto his own plate.
After a moment of indecision the Jew carefully placed his plate back down on the counter, cutting a piece of pancake with his fork and dipping it into the dollop of syrup.
"You know, Rebecca likes you…still."
Kyle looked up at his best friend, fork poised halfway to his mouth. "No offense, Stan, but I'm not interested in Rebecca. I think I'm gonna stay clear for a little while longer. Maybe after college…" he decided firmly, placing the food into his mouth. He thought about how Stan and he had acted when they were younger. It was for the best.
Besides, he couldn't stand being around anyone for any length of time except his family and Stan. Maybe Kenny if he were still around…
He needed to steer the conversation away from himself. He was really tired of their age old Kyle-needs-a-girlfriend argument. "You taking Wendy to junior prom?" He pushed his dry pancake around on the plate, then picked up a sausage and nibbled on it. He was glad that Stan agreed to go vegetarian with him. It helped his diabetes and Stan hated the thought of animals dying just so he could eat a steak.
"Nah, I was thinking I would just go with you, you know? I'm escorting Wendy at homecoming next weekend."
Kyle smirked, "What if I already have a date?" He gagged on his orange juice when Stan looked like he'd grown an extra head. He wasn't expecting the blue-gray eyes to harden, though.
"Who?" Stan demanded, slamming his cup down with a little more force than necessary.
Now it was Kyle's turn to look bewildered. "No one, dude. It was a joke. Jesus." He pushed his glasses up with his finger and peered more closely at his best friend, who was steadily relaxing and reddening in embarrassment. Something was up…
"Sorry, dude," Stan finally apologized, rubbing the back of his neck with an anxious palm, "I was just a little pissed for a minute that you might have kept something that huge from me…"
Stan had thought he was pretty smooth if he did say so himself…up until Kyle and his bombshell; sliding in the prom suggestion like he had. Then he had to go and freak the fuck out when Kyle had suggested he was already going with someone. And the most messed up aspect about it? He had wondered who had gotten through his protective best friend barrier. He wondered who Kyle talked to in all of his AP classes.
He watched as Kyle suspiciously nibbled the sausage after his apology. It was both adorable and annoying. Kyle really needed to eat more. He missed meat sometimes, but it was so much better for Kyle and he hated the thought of those poor animals. He really was turning into a bona fide pussy.
"I have to go to work this afternoon, but I thought we could veg out for a while until then," he suggested, "I was actually gonna come over today and force you to teach me how to rock climb once and for all, but you know, the rain."
The wary expression finally softened his best friend's gray-green eyes into complete calm at the suggestion. "Yeah, that sounds good, " he agreed, bringing his orange juice to his lips and taking a gulp, "I recorded some movie yesterday during school we can watch in the living room. It's supposed to be funny as fuck."
The two finished with breakfast and Stan loaded the dishwasher. He'd practically lived at Kyle's house his whole life. He wasn't even sure when the chores had just overflowed households between the two of them, they just had. Then the boys went back upstairs to Kyle's bedroom. Clothes and showers were necessary.
"I think I'm gonna skip the shower this morning," Kyle muttered once the door was closed behind them, "You can go ahead. I'm just gonna change."
Stan watched as the short redhead pulled his sweatshirt over his head and dropped it into his clothes hamper. His own hoodie and shoes were still untouched under the windowsill. He was such a slob. He did take a moment to look at Kyle. His sweats and boxers barely clung to his bony hips. It would be super easy to shuck him. Then Kyle extricated himself of his sweats and Stan looked away.
He needed clothes for his shower anyway.
He crept around his friend and dug through his drawer in Kyle's dresser, pulling out some clean boxers and a pair of ratty jeans. Sharing clothes had stopped being feasible years ago. With just enough for a shower he stripped down to his own boxers and exited the room.
Stopping only for a towel in the linen cupboard, he quickly claimed the bathroom before Kyle's mother woke up and found him walking the house nearly naked. Wouldn't be a first or a last, but minimizing humiliation was optimal.
He kept the door unlocked in case someone needed to enter. The Broflovskis only had the one bathroom excepting the master, and Kyle and Ike (and Stan) were forced to share the space. Stan carelessly turned the water on and stripped the last of his clothing, stepping into the steaming stream.
It was nice.
It also didn't take long for visitors to make their rounds. First Kyle came in and pissed, not even bothering to acknowledge Stan's existence. Minutes later Ike came in and did the same. At least the kid apologized for intruding. Stan made sure to mumble a reply before the boy left. He was actually glad the two brothers were in and out during his shower. That meant he probably wouldn't have to worry about them when he got out.
Twenty minutes later he was dressed in his jeans and downstairs sitting in front of his best friend on the couch. He hadn't yet bothered with a shirt. He would have to change into a work shirt in a couple hours anyway.
The movie had barely started before he could feel Kyle's fingers absentmindedly combing themselves through his messy hair. Weekends were the best.
Kyle was laughing his ass off. The boy in the movie made the lamest super hero ever. The little girl kicking ass just made it funnier. The movie was actually kind of fucked up, but Jesus it was funny!
It wasn't until towards the end when the girl's father was dying that he realized he was practically on Stan's shoulders. And he only noticed because Stan a shaking ever so slightly. His curious green eyes peeked over his best friend's head to get an upside down view of Stan trying to hide his tears.
"Dude, are you crying?"
Stan quickly wiped the minuscule water away from his face with a bare arm. "No! Shut up!"
Kyle was definitely sitting on Stan's shoulders now. "No, you are totally crying!" Stan shrugged, bouncing Kyle off his shoulders, and stood up. Kyle noticed his ebony hair was completely crazy. "So what would your super hero power be?"
Stan slumped onto the couch next to him. "I don't know. What would you give me?"
Kyle thought about it. "Well, you would probably have like a charm speak."
"What? That's totally gay!"
"Hey, it's logical!" Kyle shot back defensively, "You can talk anybody into doing anything. You know it's true! And anyway, it's better than mine. The only thing I can do is spout off random facts. At least Cartman could kill people with his big fat ass. All I could do is bore people to death. And anyway, your power would keep you from having to kill people."
Stan looked less than impressed but seemed to concede. Kyle bristled but remained silent. "Kye, you can do way more than spout off random facts."
"Like what? Be Jewish?" Sarcasm was always his fallback.
"No," Stan sat up straighter and turned towards the redhead. He looked intense, like he was really close to solving one of Kyle's AP calculus problems. "You would be invincible," Stan decided with finality.
Kyle snorted, "Yeah? How so?"
Stan shrugged and seemed to struggle with himself for a minute, scooting closer to his friend, like he was working up an epic speech. Charm speak.
"Well, you're so tough," Stan finally exhaled, "Let's face it, you're a shrimp." Stan halted the words of outrage Kyle was about to spew forth. "Yes you are, don't deny it. And look at you! I'm a foot taller than you and you're about to rip my head off! Also, you don't care what the latest trends are or what's popular. You only care about what's right and what matters. Not like me. You're the smartest person I have ever known. You're fast and pretty strong. So there, you would be invincible," Stan finally finished. Kyle felt Stan's hands gripping his own firmly like he could will the redhead to agree through touch.
"God you all are gay," Ike muttered as he passed through to the kitchen.
Stan dropped Kyle's hands like they burnt him and shot up from the couch. "I gotta get to work," he muttered, bright red, "Uncle Jimbo will be expecting me…"
Kyle opened his mouth to tell Stan he had another hour, but the raven haired teen was already bounding up the stairs four at a time to grab an extra work shirt.
"Fuckin' weird, dude…" Kyle muttered. His face was warm and his hands were stinging.
Stan tuned the old junky guitar before plucking some strings absentmindedly. The rain was still coming down in buckets. No one was going to come by the pawn shop today. The teen sat back and made himself comfortable on the shabby old office chair behind the counter. He crossed his legs on the counter and settled the guitar on his lap.
He had been thrilled when uncle Jimbo had given him the weekend job when he turned sixteen. Most teens his age were stuck flipping burgers if they had a job. Kyle didn't. His parents refused to let him have one. They didn't want it to affect his grades.
He thought about when Jimbo and Ned had bought the old store together a few years ago. They had taken a big change and it had paid off. Stan wondered if he would grow old with Kyle the way uncle Jimbo and Ned were. He hoped so.
He picked at the strings of the old guitar, making sure it sounded good. Then he started plucking a tune over them as he thought about what an idiot he was. He had embarrassed Kyle. God he was such a douche.
Yeah Stan, way to go. Grab your best friend's hands and gush about how wonderful he is. That's the way to keep your love on the down low.
The disturbing thing was he had never had trouble with controlling himself before. He blamed his parents. When he had let it slip that he liked guys his parents jumped to conclusions.
"Stan, do you like Kyle? Is that what this is all about? I mean, he is a little girly…" his dad has asked.
"Oh honey how cute! Getting a little crush on your best friend! He's a good boy," his mom had gushed.
It had been too much. He hadn't even wanted to mention his sexuality to them at all and suddenly they were condoning his and Kyle's imaginary, non-existent relationship. He hadn't even mentioned Kyle. He had totally flipped. Didn't even give them an answer, just rushed up to his room and grabbed his phone.
His parents had always been his mental barrier; the it's-just-not-possible-to-think-of-Kyle-that-way blockade. It had been a flimsy excuse, but one he had always safely assumed. He had always figured they would be freaked out that they had grown up together, shared baths when they were little, played together, everything. He was sure they would be horrified that he would ever want anything else with Kyle. He had been wrong.
And that fucked his world up.
His phone vibrated. It was Wendy.
Received Sat 2:56 p
Hey. Are you free tonight after work?
Stan sighed heavily. He had broken up with Wendy last week. They were always on speaking terms and their separations were usually short, but he really didn't want to deal with all this right now. It was like Wendy knew when he was having crises and planned accordingly.
Sent Sat 2:57 p
no im busy srry
A few minutes ticked by.
Received Sat 3:00 p
That's fine. I just thought I would give it a try. ;)
And btw your texts are horrible. How does Kyle
put up with them?
Stan stared at the offending text. They were goddamned texts, not fucking letters to congress. He got the message across. What was wrong with his fucking texts? Did they irritate Kyle? She sent those sort of messages on purpose. Women were conniving succubi, the lot of them. But the hint stuck in his psyche.
Sent Sat 3:05 p
Do my texts ever bother you?
Received Sat 3:05 p
Who the fuck is this?
Stan rolled his eyes dramatically. Who the fuck did Kyle think it was? The pope?
Sent Sat 3:06 p
da fuck u think it is da pope
Received Sat 3:07 p
Sorry. You never text in complete sentences.
I thought someone had stolen your phone. :P
Sent Sat 3:07 p
Received Sat 3: 08 p
Dude, don't pay attention to Wendy's jabs.
The guy was magical. Stan smiled then frowned. This. This was why he was hopelessly in love with the guy. Kyle didn't even have to try to be wonderful. He just did it. Stan fought constantly to keep his status and charm, what little he had. Kyle thought he could talk anyone into anything.
He wondered why Kyle wasn't interested in anybody. He did occasionally drop hints about girls that were interested in him. Guys were out of the question. And he only hinted at terrible girls. Maybe he just wasn't being fair. Kyle deserved the pick of the litter. The logical part of his brain wished Kyle would date Bebe. Then they could double date. Every other part of him was violently against the very practical idea.
It was all very frustrating. He decided that he needed to speak to his best friend about this right away. He would drive over after work after giving his parents a call to remind them he was alive.
His mind settled, he went back to plucking absently at the strings of the guitar for the remainder of his short shift.
Kyle was a mess when Stan showed up at his house after work. He felt like a complete asshole and didn't even really care. It didn't even register that Stan seemed a little on edge himself. He didn't even let his best friend get his shoes off before beginning with a rant.
"My mom is such a stupid bitch! And dad? He's a traitor! I can't believe he sided with her!" he shrieked at Stan's hunched back, "It's none of their goddamn business what I do and who I am with! Why does it even matter? Is it really that strange for a boy not to want to date?"
Stan finally stood up full and turned around, surprised eyes dipping down to connect with Kyle's withering glare. "Well kinda, dude, but what is this all about? Should you be yelling like that?"
The comment didn't help Kyle's already volcanic mood. He hadn't left the house all day and his energy had the misfortune of taking the form of angry indignation. "It doesn't matter," he spat, "Ike is at his girlfriend's house and my parents are out on a date."
Stan gave the small boy a blank look. "Okay…"
Kyle couldn't help but narrow his shocking green eyes at his best friend accusingly, "Okay? That's all you have to say? You don't care? Dude, weak! You're supposed to be my best friend!" Kyle was really up in his best friend's face now, or as up in his face as he could be. He wanted to bite the solid hands that planted themselves on his shoulders and led him forcefully over to the couch to sit down.
Stan's eyes were serious when he sat next to him. "Kye, what are you talking about? Start at the beginning."
Kyle took a cue from Stan and planted his face in his hands, groaning, the life draining from his fight. "I don't even fucking know, dude. They both just started ranting about how they were worried about me and wanted me to have a full, happy life…"
"Gee Kye, sounds terrible," Stan joked from Kyle's peripheral vision.
"No dude! They asked me if I wanted them to set me up with a 'nice girl'! They even said it was okay if I didn't like girls. Nothing to be ashamed of, they said. Just wanted me to be happy. Then they started offering to set me up with girls from our synagogue. It was horrifying!"
He finally looked up at his friend, who had gone very pale.
"What'd you say?"
"I told um' I'd find a date by prom. That's what? Three weeks away?"
Kyle was more than a little pleased when Stan's eyes became stormy and his face scrunched up with anger. It was about damn time he was properly pitied. "Well that's retarded! What does it matter to them? It's none of their fucking business! You'll date whoever the hell you want whenever the hell you want! God this is fucked up!"
The redhead smiled at his best friend's anger and scooted closer to him, noticing the deep, heaving breathes the jock was taking. Without thought he put his arms around the other teen to calm him down. It always worked. Sure enough, the breathes soon calmed, but he didn't pull away. He could talk this way without having to meet his best friend's eyes. And he knew Stan wouldn't make him pull away. The heartbeat under his ear gave him courage.
"It's not just that, Stan," he finally admitted, "Who the hell is going to date me? I'm a skinny little glasses wearing, geeky, shrimp. I don't want to disappoint my parents by failing to get a date…" There. He said it.
The redhead felt his best friend's heart speed up as his arms enveloped him and pulled him even closer. "Kye, you're so stupid," he heard Stan whisper, and felt him kiss the top of his head. He felt his own heart speed up. Stan had never done anything like that before. He wanted to see Stan's face but didn't want to move. If he were playing chess he'd call it a stalemate. When Stan spoke again he was glad that he had decided to just remain where he was.
"Kyle, you're the most wonderful person ever. Anyone would be the luckiest person ever to date you. You're brilliant, funny, fun, and gorgeous," Stan murmured, gulping against the top of Kyle's head, "You've got my vote."
Kyle really hoped his best friend couldn't see his deep blush. This had to be the gayest thing he had ever done. And he had rolled around with Stan in his underwear.
Stan's heart was hammering in his chest. It defied all logic that he could feel Kyle's thrumming against his stomach. The deep blush was adorable, too. He was just so caught up in the moment. Was that it? Was Kyle too self conscious to date? Did he think no one would want him? That was the most ridiculous thing ever. He had never even seemed aware of others.
Stan's gut twisted in guilt when he remembered the fourth grade and the cute list. Kyle had been devastated. He had also accepted his status, like he expected it and was just receiving confirmation.
What a stupid Jew.
He let Kyle's blush disappear before removing him from his lap to look directly at him. He wouldn't have ever expected this kind of conversation when he came over tonight. Just a couple of awkward questions covered by friendly humor. Not this. Now came the really hard question.
"Kye, is there anyone you would want to date?" he asked carefully.
The uncertainty was gone from the redhead's eyes and replaced by irritated frustration. Stan watched Kyle actually grip his curls and pull before pulling his knees to his chest and harrumphing. "That's the thing, dude! I really don't! The only person I even want to be around most of the time is you!"
Stan just barely kept himself in check. "You like being around me?" he asked uncertainly, mirroring Kyle's pose on the couch. He was pretty sure if he didn't physically pull himself together Bad Things would happen. Like serious confessions of undying love.
Kyle gave him a look and settled his chin on his knees while he answered exasperatedly, "Duh, retard."
Stan knew he was Kyle's best friend. He could even add a super in the title. They had grown up together. They did everything together. Then, now, tomorrow, the day after that. They would always be together. But what Kyle was telling him was different. There was a difference between having a super best friend and not wanting to be around anyone else. He wondered if Kyle thought anything about that. He was the smart one of the pair. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but one surfaced before all the others.
It must have been a really stupid question to Kyle because he didn't even turn his head on his knees before answering the wall, "You're my best friend."
"Yeah, but what about me?"
Stan couldn't look away from the lip Kyle was chewing. Every time he paused it was swollen and red. His affection was not healthy. "It could help us narrow down potential dates for you," he added, hoping that made his inquiry sound a little less creepy and obsessive.
Kyle's mouth quirked and he shrugged. "I dunno dude. You're everything I'm not I guess…"
Stan stared on expectantly and kept his blush at bay when Kyle growled in frustration a few moments later, "You really wanna know? Fine! You're a leader. When people are around you they are drawn to you, you know? I know I am. And that doesn't corrupt you like it usually does people. You care, Stan. You care about people and animals and everything. You're patient in a way I could never be. You put up with me and my irrational anger and irritability. I honestly don't know why you are still my friend. And you know what really pisses me off?"
Stan shook his head dumbly.
"You're tall and built for sports. Your hair is soft. I can actually pull my fingers through it! That's what really pisses me off. It's not enough that you are popular and charming, you're good looking, too! How is that fair? How could I not like being around you? Somehow in this godforsaken world, in this godforsaken town, I managed to make friends with you, the only sane, worthwhile living thing around…" Kyle was panting hard now, but coming to an end of his rant. "And that was probably the gayest thing I have ever said, ever."
Stan didn't know when he has scooted over to be directly beside his best friend, well within the bubble that was supposed to exist but didn't between them. He tipped his head over and gently knocked it against Kyle's beet red one. "Yeah well," he murmured, "We're all a little gay…"
He leaned over and planted a firm kiss on his friend's temple.
Kyle leaned into the warmth on his temple. It was the second time Stan had kissed him today, or ever. It felt nice. When the mouth disappeared from his head he found he missed the warmth. His face slid into something between a smile and a grimace. His heart was pounding erratically. His lips suddenly felt too dry and his tongue darted out to wet them.
"Can I kiss you?"
Kyle thought about replying with a sarcastic comment about how he already had, but he knew that wasn't what his best friend meant. He wondered for one horrifying second if Stan was testing him. His eyes darted over to see sparkling turquoise. His words died with his thoughts.
The eyes he saw weren't laughing or happy or angry. They were questioning and sorrowful and full of more longing than Kyle had ever seen in his life. And very close.
The look didn't change as he felt Stan carefully place his hands on either side of his face. He watched Stan take a deep breath and close the gap.
The kiss was the gentlest thing Kyle had ever experienced. It was soft and lingering, full of more emotion than such a tiny thing should be able to contain. And it wasn't enough. Kyle mirrored Stan and put his hands on either side of his friend's face, closing his eyes and asserting himself more fully. Stan moaned.
Kyle's rational brain shut down at the noise and before he could logic himself out of anything, he was tugging at Stan's hair, forcing the bigger boy to crouch over him on the couch. And it still wasn't enough. Frustrated with Stan's caution, he snuck a leg under the hovering body for more leverage and eased himself upwards, pressing himself firmly against his best friend's body.
Stan broke the kiss, but didn't open his eyes. "Oh god," he groaned, breathing all of Kyle's air with a pained expression. Kyle was worried he had gone too far, but then Stan dipped his head again and captured Kyle's lips again.
This kiss was not gentle. It was fierce and brutal and full of lust. Kyle thought idly that his lips would be bruised tomorrow. Instead of hovering cautiously like before, Stan dropped all of his weight on the smaller boy below him. Kyle struggled with it a little until he felt his best friend's erection through their jeans. It was huge. Just like the rest of his friend. He should have known.
He knew Stan heard the noise because extra breath was released through his nose as he attacked Kyle's lower lip. He tightened his grip around Stan's chest.
A crack of wood broke them up very suddenly.
Kyle wondered if he looked as wild as Stan did, staring at the surprised expression of his parents. He knew his chest was heaving to match Stan's, and he was probably at least as red.
His dad took the bag his mother had been holding and snuck into the kitchen. His mom pinched the bridge of her nose. "Kyle," she breathed, "You could have just told us…"
He looked over at his friend to see the completely expected face-plant. Great, Stan was going to be no help whatsoever.
At least he wouldn't have to worry about his parents setting him up with anyone.
Edit: I went through and edited for errors. If you see any more errors please let me know. I apologize for not including all the boys. It just wasn't feasible with the short time period of the plot. This started out as a longish one-shot. It has now grown...
Hope you enjoyed it and please review. I'm ashamed to say reviews truly do inspire creation.
Edit: I think if enough people review I will add a part two...