Needless to say, Stan did not do well coming out of the closet. At all.
When the first budding feelings of attraction to boys show up, he shrugged them off as hormones being stupid. Well, he wanted to shrug them off as that. But as time progressed, he found it harder to maintain relationships, breaking up with Wendy and going through a slew of girls afterwards. He was just kidding himself; he knew that after trying it with Red for the third time. Girls became...uninteresting all together.
But he still dated them, he wouldn't accept those other strange feelings directed at other guys.
Everyone had a homosexual fantasy at least once in his life, right? So what if he eyed up Craig in the bathroom ("Just comparing size!"), or watched Clyde in the showers after a game ("I was reaching for the soap and you were in my way!"), or ogled Token's ass ("I zoned out, not my fault your crack's right there!")? It didn't mean a thing! Really!
Of all people to convince him that this denial was out of hand, Kenny ended up pushing him over the edge.
("Stanny what is this? Ninth girlfriend in the past month? Ya big slut, good for you!"
"Shut the fuck up, asshole."
"Dude, I'm all up for sexin' lots of chicks, but you're making me look like a commonplace pimp with your Hugh Hefner attitude."
"SHUT UP, KENNY."
"What? Stanny, sounds to me like you're hidin' somethin'."
"It's nothing, fuck off."
"Ya don't tell a bro to fuck off unless he's hidin' somethin' pretty big. And I'm no Sherlock Holmes but I figure it's gotta do with your unquenchable sex drive."
"No it doesn't."
"Ya ain't the type to slut around, Stan. Ya don't even seem to give a shit about the girls anymore and ya act fucking miserable."
"Kenny..."
"Oh I see now...")
After a few unconventional methods of persuasion...
("If you were gaaaaaaaaaaaay that'd be okaaaaaaaaaaaay"
"Kenny-"
"I mean cause hey! I'd like you anyway!"
"STOP!"
"Because you seeeeeeeeeeeee, if it were meeeeeeeeeeeeeee, I would feel freeeeee to say that I was gay."
"BUT I'M NOT GAY!"
"Bullshit.")
...Kenny opened his eyes.
Coming to terms didn't help, not that much anyway. When it got out ("Bebe swore she wouldn't tell anyone, Stanny, my bad!") that he was, well, out, things got a little hairy. Not hairy exactly, but he heard a lot of "Called it!" remarks from past girlfriends and a few homophobic comments from the less welcoming. Perhaps he was a little more obvious than he liked to admit, but his new treatment wasn't the worst part of being open.
The worst part was that, with his emotions freed from their cage, the festered feelings blossomed and bloomed rapidly. This burst of affection, lust, and infatuation startled him, especially when he fixated on one in particular to channel all this at; Kyle.
The whole thing felt like a big slap in the face. No, not a slap in the face; that would've been generous. The whole thing really rammed into his face like a freight train going at the speed of sound followed by a stampede of elephants and a group of tanks.
Already, he regretted even saying anything. Living in blissful, forced, slightly painful heterosexuality didn't sound nearly as bad as realising a crush on a super best friend. Plus Kyle was fairly asexual at best, so all hopes of hooking up were dashed then and there.
And to make matters even worse, his dog died. His dog died. His gay dog died.
The ticker just stopped-he was a pretty old dog, anyway-but it picked a right good time to conk out. Right when he needed a friend.
People didn't isolate him, not really. But there was always a new aura of odd coming off them, everyone adjusting to this new out Stan the same way Stan was getting used to the idea. The only one who didn't treat him different in the slightest was Sparky and poof, no more.
That left him to mope on the stoop of his house, a half empty six-pack at his side and another bottle in his hand. He stared at the concrete path, zoning out as he blankly stared down a fallen snowflake. He forgot the rest of the world even existed, mind detached and missing, body abandoned on the doorstep.
Everything sucks... He thought. Everything just blows...
"ARF! ARF"
Stan blinked, and the next moment he found himself gazing into a pair of warm coco brown eyes.
Before him sat a little puppy, happily wagging his tail, eyes shining with glee. His thin tail beat against the concrete, wagging like crazy. His fur, a solid latte colour, was short, and covered with mocha spots. His ears were folded over, the types Rottweiler puppies had. His pink tongue hung out of his mouth as he panted, waiting for Stan to respond.
"ARF! ARF!" He piped again, bark squeaky even for a pup.
"Huh?" Stan placed the bottle on the ground, hunching his shoulders and leaning over. The puppy kept eye contact, excited to meet someone knew. Hesitantly, the ebon reached out and stroked the dog's head, fur slick under his fingers, "Where did you come from little guy?"
"RUFF!" The pup replied. Stan didn't speak dog, so that answer wasn't exactly helpful.
"I got him for you."
Stan snapped his head up, only to find Kyle standing over him, gazing down at him with bright emerald eyes. Though he looked tired, traces of violet beneath his bright eyes, he still wore a smile, small and slight as it was.
"What?" Stan asked, dumbfounded.
"ARF!" The mutt turned his attention to the redhead.
"I said I got him for you," Kyle said, utter sincerity dripping from his words.
Stan tilted his head, azure eyes wide with confusion.
Kyle stared at him, smile fading, giving him an 'Are you serious?' look.
"Why are you giving me that look?" He spoke quicker than normal, even a tad bitterly, "You look like a damn deer in the headlights."
"Why did you get me a dog?" Stan asked as the pup licked his hand, slobbering all over his palm.
"Because I know things have been rough for you," Kyle knelt down, eye-level to Stan. He took a deep breath, a puff of white smoke escaping his lips. He didn't speak for a long moment, simply staring at Stan, thinking of the right words to say.
Stan just kept staring, nervous, heart racing. He hadn't been this close to Kyle in a long time. In fact, he avoided Kyle shortly after coming out. And now he was just...right there. Close enough to kiss.
"I care about you, Stan," Kyle said, nearly coughing the words out, "And...You're out and all and...You're a hell of a lot braver than me and life's just treated you like shit for doing that... So I just... Got you a dog..." He deadpanned at the end, feeling like a complete idiot.
Stan absorbed all his friend said, considering each word carefully. It implied-or at least sounded like it implied-some undertones of...gayness? No, no, that couldn't be it, Kyle wasn't the type. Then again, some people just avoided sexual topics while still dwelling in the closet as opposed to screwing everything that moved. But maybe Stan was just hearing what he wanted to or reading too far into things.
Kyle chose his words carefully though, and he always spoke surely with every word deliberate and meaningful. He never just 'said things' the way other people did. Everything meant something.
"ARF!" The little dog scurried over by Kyle, nuzzling his face against the Jew's jeans to cheer him up.
Both boys looked down at the puppy and smiled.
"It was a dumbass idea," Kyle said, talking to himself more than Stan, "I shouldn't've let Bebe and Wendy talk me into it."
"Girls are crazy," Stan said with a laugh, "But sometimes they have good plans. This is one of 'em," He waited for Kyle to look up at him, "Thanks."
"No problem, dude," He just smiled, and Stan's whole world lit up. They didn't have a huge confessional and the whole thing felt pretty sappy, but he enjoyed the little chick flick moment while it lasted. Wasn't he entitled to that?
"RUFF!"
"Oh," Kyle glanced down at the dog again, reaching out and scratching behind his ear, "He needs a name."
"How 'bout Spot?" Stan wasn't the most creative person when it came to names.
"We're not naming our dog Spot," Kyle rolled his eyes.
"So he's our dog now?" Stan raised a brow, smirking. Not exactly a romantic confession, but it was all he needed.
"I..." Kyle's mouth hung open, thinking over what he just said and, upon detecting his slip up, blushed a deep shade of scarlet. "Fuck you," He huffed.
"We're starting off pretty serious if we have a dog," Stan teased, snickering.
"If you give him a stupid name I'm taking him back." Kyle growled.
"You wouldn't," Stan pretended to sound shocked, knowing for a fact that Kyle didn't have the heart to do such a thing.
"Well just don't give him a stupid name!"
"Fine, not Spot. What about... Fido."
"No."
"Boxer?"
"That breed isn't even in his mix."
"Buddy?"
"Hell no."
"What about Kyle-won't-give-me-a-cool-name?"
"Or Kyle-is-saving-me-from-being-called-something-totally-lame?"
"Too long. How's Fuck-you-Kyle?"
"How's You're-an-ass?"
"ARF!"
Again, the boys turned to the dog, whose eyes gleamed when they met his gaze. The puppy just looked so happy and so cute...It was enough to break the bickering.
"...I kinda like the sound of Sam," Kyle murmured.
"ARF!" The puppy jumped, approving of the name.
"Sam?" Stan looked back at the puppy, "You like the sound of that little guy?"
"RUFF! RUFF!"
"Sam it is!" Stan declared.
"No, I wasn't serious..." Kyle said.
"Too late!" Stan grinned, rising to his feet, "Now come on, let's get 'im a collar and shit. Here, Sam!"
"RUFF!" Sam scooted to Stan's side, joining him as the two headed down the path.
Kyle stood up, watching Stan and his-their-new dog start off, "You can be an asshole, sometimes. You know that, right?"
Stan stopped, then glanced over his shoulder, "Coming?"
"Of course," Kyle said, a smile curling on his lips.
And as they walked up, energetic puppy zipping between their legs, Stan felt like things were finally alright again.
A/N: Happy birthday to my dear new pal, Karen! Also known as klonki! She's such a fabulous artist and I absolutely love her work not to mention she is one of the sweetest people ever! Her birthday is actually a few days from now, but I'm posting now because I'm not going to be able to contain myself (and I don't want to do what I always do and lose files/forget and then cry).
Anyway, I hope you all (especially Karen) enjoyed this style. I don't ship it too much and I'm kind of in a bit of an off period writing (thus I haven't been as active and I've also been exploring SPN btw I wonder where I got the dog's name from hmmm), so I just hope I did 'em justice!
Thanks for reading! Leave a review! And happy birthday Karen (love you)! ~CQO