Pass the Salt

A/N: I saw an interesting text post on Tumblr, and I just had to do this. It's so dumb, but I got a laugh out of it.


"It's nice of you to join us for dinner, Stanley! We're always glad to have you over."

"Thanks, Mrs. Broflovski. S'nice to escape my dad's antics every once in a while."

Stan leaned against the doorframe of the Broflovski kitchen with his hands in his jacket pockets and a suspiciously wide smile on his face; Kyle, who stood at his side, elbowed him lightly and then coughed to cover up Stan's yelp of pain. "Your smile looks fake," the redhead hissed through his teeth.

"We're having gefilte fish tonight," Sheila continued, bustling about the kitchen with Ike at her heels to help gather supplies. "I don't recall whether you like that or not, but I promise I make it the best."

"I know you do, Mrs. Broflovski," Stan put in, his voice cracking with nerves. Sheila hadn't noticed this, but Kyle elbowed the other boy again, regardless.

"Dude," he whispered urgently, "you're gonna get us caught 'fore we can do this properly."

"Sorry!" Stan fired back, voice low so as not to alert anyone to their mumblings.

The idea was that Stan would join them for dinner in order to let loose a secret that the two of them had been harboring for about two years now, but, at this rate, his anxiousness would give them away before it was announced at dinner like they'd planned. Kyle and Stan had been dating for quite a while, (which Ike already knew, due to his walking in on some of their less-than-innocent acts one day) and they both agreed that it was time to let their families know—starting with Kyle's.

Before the whispers between them could escalate, Ike and Sheila reappeared from the walk-in pantry, carrying bottles of spices and parts of a food processor, respectively. "This will take a few minutes, so go on, boys, go entertain yourselves," the latter said, hardly glancing in their direction as she spoke.

"Entertain yourselves." Ike wiggled his eyebrows at them. Stan immediately ducked away in embarrassment while Kyle shot his little brother the finger. Luckily, Sheila didn't sense the implications her youngest son was making.

Once the two older boys were situated in the Broflovski's bedroom by themselves and had wasted a good ten minutes watching television, Stan started to calm down, even managing a smile when Kyle began rubbing his arm. "My parents aren't total bigots, you know—it'll be fine."

"Yeah… Yeah! Y'know, it'll be easy, even."

The redhead chuckled, moving the hand that had been on Stan's arm up to his cheek. "Right. They love you, anyway, so it's cool…" That said, he leaned toward his friend with a small smile curling his lips, closing his eyes and tilting his head a fraction. Right before he could kiss the other, the sound of the doorknob turning made him jerk back so hard he ended up on the other end of the bed.

Gerald practically flung the door open, not even bothering to look into the room for more than a second to announce that dinner was ready; he was entirely oblivious to the red faces and wide eyes of the boys he'd barged in on, and, for that, they were very, very thankful.

The moment he left, Kyle gave Stan an encouraging smile. "We're gonna do this together, okay?"

Stan swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded once. "Okay."

They headed downstairs to meet the rest of the family at the dinner table, and, just like numerous times before, Stan melded himself perfectly into the conversations and customs of the household, smiling warmly in his now-relaxed state.

Kyle almost sighed in relief, but managed to keep his composure. "Could you pass me the salt, daddy?"

"Sure thing."

Every mouth at the table stopped moving; Kyle's eyes widened.

Stan and Gerald had spoken in unison and were now staring at each other with twin expressions of mortification.

The silence lasted a good few moments, only broken when Ike burst into a loud, unrestricted bout of laughter.

Kyle slumped as low in his chair as he could and hid his face in his hands to avoid his mother's eyes. He swore he felt his soul fleeing from his body. This was it. He was literally dying of embarrassment. With a soft groan, he peered through his fingers to glare at Stan, who was trying his best to pretend like Gerald wasn't still staring at him.

The black-haired boy laughed once, awkwardly. "…Surprise, everybody."