Picture
Summary: Songfic to the duet "Picture" by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. Pairings: Stan/Kyle, Kyle/Christophe, Stan/multiple girls.
Disclaimer: I own neither the song nor the characters.
-.-
Living my life in a slow hell
22-year-old Stan Marsh sat by the window, overlooking the parking lot, watching the rain fall down on to the parked cars below.
Different girl every night at the hotel
The first night, he'd run to Wendy. Then Bebe the night before last. Last night, it had been that red-headed girl that no one really knew the name of. Stan decided it was because he had a "thing" for redheads.
I ain't seen the sun shining in three damn days
The douche on The Weather Channel said that an unusual warm front was to blame for all the rain. But Stan knew better. It was because the Powers that Be were furious at him.
I'm fueling up on cocaine and whiskey
It was probably the only way he would be able to even speak with these girls. He'd done the dumbest thing of his life, right before the rain started.
Wish I had a good girl to miss me
He'd broken up with Kyle. At least, Stan thought they'd broken up. There had been a fight, Kyle had been yelling. Stan had mentioned his mother, the "biggest bitch in the whole wide world." Kyle had thrown him out on his ass and slammed the door in his face.
Lord I wonder if I'll ever change my ways
The rain continued to pour as Stan sighed, turned away from the window, and headed over to the suitcase which contained the meager things that Kyle had thrown out the door two minutes after Stan.
I put your picture away
The picture was the first one that had been taken of them as a couple. Kyle hated it. Perhaps he was glad to get rid of it. It had, basically, the two of them fighting to keep Kyle's hat on Kyle's head, in a photo machine.
Sat down and cried today
It was too damn early to head to the bar. It was only 3 P.M. Hell, the good bars weren't even OPEN yet. Stan flung himself onto the bed and let the tears flow. Why was he such a dumbass!?!
I can't look at you
Which was why the picture resided in the nightstand drawer.
While I'm lying next to her
He wondered who he would pick up tonight.
I called you last night in the hotel
22-year-old Kyle Broflovski sat at the kitchen table, holding a telephone in his hands. He'd actually fallen asleep there with it last night, after the phone in Stan's room had rang itself into hotel voicemail. His eyes were puffy from crying.
Everyone knows but they won't tell
He'd been browsing some of Stan's hideouts, looking for him. Nobody claimed to have spoken with him recently. Kyle knew that was total bullshit.
But their half-hearted smiles tell me something just ain't right
He hadn't grown up with a lawyer for a dad for nothing. He knew from their expressions that Stan HAD been there, but he had been doing things that Kyle would NOT want to know about.
I've been waiting on you for a long time
Three goddamn days. Seventy-two goddamn hours. Four thousand three hundred and twenty goddamn minutes. Two hundred fifty-nine thousand, two hundred goddamn seconds. Each one of them as painful as the last, with no hope of the pain alleviating itself. Goddamnit, Stan.
Fueling up on heartaches and cheap wine
Judging by the empty shelves at the liquor store downtown, Kyle had blown through roughly $150 bucks on some Napa Valley shit that tasted like monkey urine. In three days, and with little or no notice by the imbiber himself, something that was quite likely not good.
I ain't heard from you in three damn nights
Kyle sat on the couch by the phone, even as Christophe came up from the basement with a bottle of good, French (a description the ex-mercenary would call an unnecessary embellishment) wine.
I put your picture away
Kyle's picture of Stan had been much less embarrassing, at least to Kyle. It was them after their graduation from college. Kyle had grabbed his boyfriend, and, as they had thrown their mortarboards into the air, given him a deep kiss that had been captured by Kyle's brother Ike from the younger Broflovski's perch in a shade tree.
I wonder where you've been
He had his suspicions. He was, in fact, nearly 100 sure of Stan's location and his activities during the past three days. Christophe knew. Kyle had hired him to find out. The Frenchman just wasn't telling. Honestly, how bad could it be?
I can't look at you
Which, Kyle mused, is why that happy moment is staring at the crappy wallpaper job in the dining room.
While I'm lyin' next to him
Christophe had always been Kyle's fall-back. For the six months during their sophomore years at college they'd been apart, Christophe had been more than happy to step up. Ever since he'd died in Kyle's arms during the U.S.-Canadian War, both boys had held a special place in each other's hearts. Christophe's place in Kyle's heart, however, was smaller than Kyle's place in his.
I saw you yesterday with an old friend
Stan certainly hadn't intended to bump into Kyle and Christophe at the mall. He'd been wandering around, killing time before the bars opened in North Park. They'd been coming out of an electronics store. Probably to get some more of the Mole's "supplies," Stan mused darkly.
It was the same old same how have you been
Just like they'd been before they'd come out, Kyle had reflected. They'd regressed five years in three days. How the hell was that possible?
Since you've been gone my worlds been dark and grey
Stan had muttered a terse "Fine," and quickly disappeared. Christophe noticed the sad look on Kyle's face and tensed up, ready to go beat the raven-haired man to near-death, but a hand on his arm restrained him. Kyle. Meanwhile, in a bathroom a level down, Stan was hurling up most of what he'd eaten over the past few days, and crying uncontrollably.
You reminded me of brighter days
Stan became aware then that the alcohol wasn't going to make him any happier. That, and he was running out of money. Damn finances. It would be a loooooooooooooooooooooong night.
I hoped you were coming home to stay
Kyle had headed straight to bed upon returning from the mall, and cried himself to sleep. Christophe was unable to wake him for dinner, or anything, that night.
I was headed to the church
Though Jewish, Kyle decided a prayer session was best achieved at the Catholic church. The priest was so used to him coming in (usually with Stan), no one gave him a second look.
I was off to drink you away
It was quite pathetic, Stan thought, that he was headed to church to bum off the sacramental wine. He'd planned to just go into the sanctuary and retrieve it, but the sight of an ushanka perched atop red curls as he entered pretty much tossed that plan RIGHT out the window. Unfortunately for him, the door shut quickly before he could stop it, and Kyle turned around to see him.
I thought about you for a long time
"What the HELL are you doing here?" both asked, simultaneously. It had been one of the little things each did that had attracted them to each other in the first place. Both turned red, and started to explain themselves.
Can't seem to get you off my mind
"Stan," Kyle began. "We've been together in some way or another for the last 17 years. You know how attached we are to each other. I can't forget about you. I can't forget about us. Not by myself. I'm here for help."
Stan gulped. He looked like hell. Kyle could probably see that, even though he wasn't in the best of shapes himself. "Kyle," he said, aware that he was red in the face and sweating, "the last few days have been hard as hell on me too. I'm guessing that you've had…him…following me around. I'm here for help too, but not the same kind as you." Kyle knew what he was there for, and headed for the exit, slapping Stan upside the head as he passed.
I can't understand why we're living life this way
Stan dropped to his knees and sobbed at how pathetic he was, while Kyle did the same in his car on the way home. Both pulled out their cell phones and dialed a number.
I found your picture today
Stan walked into his motel room to find the room phone blinking. He called the desk, who informed him that he had a voice-mail message. After finding out how to play it, he hung up and followed the directions.
"Stan, it's me," Kyle's voice said from the machine. "You won't get this for a while, but I just want you to know that I really meant what I said back there in the church. I'm not going to say we're perfect…I think we both know someone who could tell us that nobody is, but…"
I swear I'll change my ways
"…I want to spend my life with you. You're my one true love. Yes, I've been having 'tophe follow you around. He hasn't told me what you've been doing. I'm not too sure I want him to…"
I just called to say I want you to come back home
"Call me back when you get this. I love you, Stan." The message ended. Stan fell back on the bed, counting out on his watch. Kyle should be home by now. He'd let him have five minutes to listen to the message on HIS machine, and then he'd call him.
I found your picture today
Kyle entered his house, tossing his keys on the small table and going over to the phone. It was blinking, which meant that he had a message. Kyle accessed the message box and let it play.
"Kyle, it's Stan." He still sounded like shit, and Kyle was instantly certain that he didn't want to know what he'd been doing. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm heading back to the motel…"
I swear I'll change my ways
"…Fuck the alcohol. I'll have some the next time I show up for Communion. I'll call you when I get back. I want to talk to you..."
I just called to say I want you to come back home
"…Three days is too long to go without you. I love you so much, Kyle." The machine beeped again, and Kyle looked at the phone in silence. He gave a startled jump when it started ringing.
"Stan!?!" he squealed into the phone, regretting instantly how girly he sounded.
"Kyle!" his boyfriend returned. "I take it you got my message?"
"Of course I got your message!" Kyle said. "Have you heard mine?"
"Took me a little while to figure out how to access it, but yes."
"And?" Kyle hoped dearly that Stan would have his shit together. He NEEDED him. Like Fatass "needed" Cheesey Poofs. Kyle frowned as Stan spoke up.
"You're right. We're not perfect. I might want too much from you. You might want too much from me. Is it OK to act like an old married couple yet?" Stan asked, jokingly. Kyle snorted.
"As long as we're good on that…" he said. "Do you even remember what we were fighting about in the first place?"
"Something about the Broncos, I think," Stan replied. "I dunno, Ky."
"Jesus Christ, how dumb are we?" Kyle replied. "I expect you back here in an hour. Haven't you forgotten? Wednesday is spaghetti night!"
"Tease!" Stan replied back.
"You know you love it," Kyle replied.
"An hour it is. I love you, Kyle."
"I love you, Stan. Bye."
"Bye." Stan clicked off the phone and re-packed, heading down to the office to check out as the rain stopped for the first time in days.
I just called to say I love you... come back home
Kyle went into the living room to find Christophe with his hand outstretched. Sighing, Kyle reached for his wallet and pulled out the $800 fee for tracking Stan, plus and extra $200.
"Kyle?" Christophe asked. "For what is zis?" He had a clue, but he wanted confirmation.
"Burn everything you found out over the last four days. I don't want to know. Thanks, Christophe."
"Anyzing for you, mon ami," the Frenchman said with a grin, disappearing out the front door.
An hour after his call ended, Stan opened the door to his and Kyle's home to find their graduation picture returned to its prominence above the TV, and Kyle grinning over a checkered tablecloth in the kitchen. On the table was a candlelit dinner for two, consisting of a bottle of red wine and a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs.
"I love you!" Stan said, dropping his bags and shedding his coat, walking into the kitchen and scooping his boyfriend in for a long, hot kiss, knocking his glasses askew.
"Damn you! You're supposed to wait until AFTER supper for that!" Kyle whined, grinning. Stan returned it, and the two sat down to supper. It goes without saying that that night was the best night of their lives, even without Kyle's normal kinkiness.
"We should fight more often," Stan said, as they snuggled before dozing off. Kyle nodded before he, too, fell prey to exhaustion.
-.-
And that's it. I think this one can be safely ended as a one-shot. Leave a review, if you would be so kind. If you want to see a specific song turned into an S/K songfic, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
El autor.