This is an old story -.- I don't really like it that much, but was going through my stuff & decided to upload it since I can't think of anything else. So, uh, here. XD I don't own South Park :P

Also the title's kinda unfitting. SORRY, OKAY? XD

Stan hardly looked over at Craig as the two sat on the grass, the wind blowing the tips of their hair. He was too busy staring intently into the sky, at the beautiful stars that shimmered in the night. The breeze was cool, light and just brushing the tips of their skin, yet had grown chillier throughout the night.

They had been sitting like this for a while now, without a purpose. Just sitting here, not talking; though you would think this being their only time together that they would speak with each other. The two barely got to see each other anymore! Friends ruined their bond, popularity statuses took over their life. Stan wanted to tell, wanted to get it out in the open, but Craig said he would be unable to take the teasing. So they lived life in secrecy, never able to truly be together for over two hours.

"It's a nice night, huh? This is one of those nights that make me sooo happy."

Though the saying usually made Stan giggle a bit, he just shrugged. "It's cold if you ask me."

"Cold? Come over here then." When Stan didn't move Craig squeezed closer to him, wrapping warm arms around his body. Stan hesitated to snuggle closer, but knew deep down that he could never really resist Craig. So, tugging on his clothes a bit, he made himself comfortable against his lover, the stars seeming to dim just a bit.

"Did you know," Craig started, "that when you're looking at the stars you're looking in the past? One of those stars could have exploded by now, yet we still see it in the sky, because it takes years for that star to fade from our vision."

"I wish we could just put this in our past." Stan sighed.

"Hm? Put what in our past?"

"This secrecy. I'm tired of it, Craig. Tired of hiding this from everyone. I'm so very tired of never being able to hold you, or even see you in public. I'll look at couples – like Butters and Kenny – and think, How come they can embrace each other like that but we can't? It's torturous. I just try to tell myself to get on, that at least we have moments like this…but it's just not enough. I know it's selfish and all…" oh God, Stan, don't cry, don't cry, "but I…just really wanna be with you all of the time."

"Oh, Stan." Craig leaned down and placed soft lips against Stan's, the kiss too short-lived. "I never knew that you wanted to tell everyone so bad."

"I'd give anything to be with you in public, Craig. To have this all the time."

"Then we'll tell. Tomorrow."

And Stan had never been happier.

But for Craig, tomorrow never came.

It was the next evening that Stan found out. Craig had gotten drunk after talking to Stan, wasted himself silly, and had gotten behind the wheel. In a treacherously horrible crash, blood was splattered all over Stan's lovers face, and he died right away. When Clyde was informing him about this over a text, trying to assure everyone that he died quickly, that no pain was involved, Stan's eyes were blurred with tears. Craig's last words to him vibrated over and over through his mind.

It was horrible to think that he had just spoken to him the day before; that everything was going to be perfect. That all their problems were going to be settled, that they could have finally had it all.

It was Clyde who had showed up and comforted Stan. He had known about the ploy the whole time, being Craig's best friend. When he showed up, his eyes were bloodshot, his brown hair a ragged mess. He had to gulp before talking, his voice breaking. "Hi Stan. I…decided to come here, to talk about Craig. Since you probably cared for him just as much as I did."

Stan let him in, having to hold back the urge to throw himself in his arms so that they could cry together. This was what he had been wanting to do, to let it all out to somebody. So he did. He spilled everything; all the stolen kisses, how they had planned to tell, and how devastated he was about Craig's death.

Clyde listened intently, and then went on to tell how traumatic the whole experience had been on him. Craig and Clyde had been hanging out since nearly the beginning of time, and a real bond had formed. He had been just as sad to hear about Craig's death, being the first one Craig's mother told, that he had to talk about it to someone. He had to share the unspoken sadness of it all.

And soon enough they were both sobbing everywhere, over the loss of Craig Tucker, a great boyfriend and best friend.

Some people say bonds form over death.

In this case, that's exactly what happened.

Soon enough, Stan and Clyde were attached at the hip. Sure, Stan sometimes felt bad for ending up with Clyde, when he had always thought Craig would be the right one for him, but he knew it was all for the better. Craig was gone, and he wouldn't want him to dwell over his death. He would want him to move on.

Sometimes at night Stan prayed to him. He would say how he hoped that Craig was having fun wherever he was, whether he be in hell or heaven, or somewhere else. He knew it was probably the bomb up there. He would say thanks to Craig for putting him together with someone like Clyde, and although Clyde could never replace the boy who had first stolen Stan's heart, he was good enough. Stan always cried while doing this.

The hardest part, he would say, was that he never got to say good bye. Sure, it wouldn't have changed anything at all, but it would have made the weight on his chest a lot less heavy. He made sure, after every prayer, he said good bye and thank you at least 100 times. Thank you, he would say, for being in my life and giving me self confidence, and for making me soooo happy.

Amen.