"Mr. Cartman! One more of those comments will earn you yet another detention!" The shrill voice of Ms. Anderson was enough to startle a flustered Kyle out of his sleep. The class itself was loud enough to annoy any person hopeful for a nap, but nothing cockblocked sleep better than Eric Cartman.
"But Ms. Anderson-" There it was, the faux innocent tone the fatass always used whenever he needed to convince anyone that he was the most perfect person ever, simply every parent's wet dream. Ridiculously bright green eyes rolled in accustomed annoyance, as Kyle shook his head in disbelief.
This was every single day at this fucking school, in this fucking town. Some half-assed lesson interrupted by Cartman, and his stupid fucking comments. That alone was enough to have Kyle hating the entire place, hoping he'd gain some sort of super power that enabled him to burn the place to the ground with just a single thought.
Beside him, he heard a soft snore stifled from the material of a thick jacket. Namely an orange hoodie, one that Kyle could identify from any distance. It was one he'd seen nearly every day of his life, and oddly enough it was the one constant thing in his life that Kyle loved. That hoodie, which did an awful job of hiding dirty blonde locks that were a bit too long for Kenny's face, was the one thing Kyle could stand in this world.
"Kenny!" He poked the blond in the ribs, much too bored in class to face it alone. It wasn't fair that Kenny got to sleep when he didn't, Kyle thought with a pout.
Kenny grunted when Kyle poked him again, flailing one orange arm weakly in an attempt to cease the attacking finger. "Kyle no!" the blonde whined, voice muffled and sounding so much like a child Kyle couldn't help but laugh.
"Wake the hell up! Cartman's got Anderson's attention, we can make a run for it," Kyle insisted as Kenny sat up with a stretch and an obvious yawn.
"But, I can sleep here Kyle," the other boy whispered as if it were the most monumental secret in the universe, blue eyes falling shut as his small frame became comfortable on the desk once more.
"Kenny!" This time he smacked the other boy in the stomach, causing a defeated oomf to pass from the blonde's lips.
Minutes later, the two sat near the curb behind the school, each boy with a cigarette in hand. It was a disgusting habit, Kyle knew, and his mom would through a bitch fit when she finally found his packs, but it had all begun with his love for Kenny. An addiction to nicotine was practically hereditary in the other boy's family, making Kenny an inevitable smoker. Spending so much time with the blonde, Kenny had promptly taken the stick from Kyle's ass and cursed him with a love for sweet cigarettes.
"When are we leaving here, Kyle?" Kenny questioned thoughtfully, turning so that startling blue eyes met the gleaming emerald of Kyle's.
It was a question that arose at the very least once a week, and one the two had discussed thoroughly on countless occasions. To leave South Park, to leave mom, dad, the shitty routine everyone settled with? It was a dream both boys were desperate to make a reality.
The answer to the question was always, "Soon." It was a promise; one Kyle dearly hoped he could keep.
Just as silence was beginning to settle comfortably over both boys, a laugh rang in the air, shattering their peaceful bubble. The laugh itself was so joyful, so carefree that it grated on Kyle's nerves. But in truth, what bothered him most was just how familiar that laugh was. Mostly, the fact that he was certain that for as long as he lived, that laugh would remain as painfully clear in his memory as it was seconds after having listened to it.
The red-haired boy tensed as the bell-like laughter continued, lithe, pale fingers holding tighter onto their cigarette. He was afraid to look up, terrified to see the cause of that laughter, petrified of seeing the perfection of that smile or the crinkles around beautiful chocolate eyes.
"Kyle." That was Kenny's voice, even and calm in the way that brought Kyle back to life every time. Green eyes opened hastily, surprised they'd even been closed in the first place, and they turned to the serene understanding in Kenny's gaze.
Kyle gave the other boy a curt nod, before turning to face every one of those fears.
There he stood, perfect smile, crinkled chocolate eyes, and all. He'd matured so well, into the most beautiful thing Kyle had ever seen truthfully. From the long lean body, which still wasn't as tall as his, but perhaps would be in a few years. That face had grown to be too alluring, bringing about a strong jaw and cutting smile. His pale skin was only blemished beautifully along his nose, where a bridge of light freckles dotted oh so carefully. He'd let his hair grow so that the dark locks came to frame his face perfectly, beneath the notorious blue hat he'd never taken off.
That hat was the only proof of identity Kyle had, because it was too difficult to believe that this bewitching creature that Kyle had fallen so far in love with was Stan Marsh. Because that was notoriously Stan's hat.
The red-haired boy grabbed a fistful of his curls beneath his own hat, his other hand moving the cigarette to his lips so that he could take a long, exhausted drag. This happened nearly every day, where Kyle was too much of a pussy and where Kenny would need to remind him to quit being one. Then Kyle would look upon his problems in life, upon Stan, and remember exactly why he was so desperate to leave South Park.
While Kenny was eager to leave his family and poverty to try at a new life, a life he could mold for himself without his family's ghosts and curses shadowing over him, Kyle need to leave for an entirely different reason. Sure, he didn't quite get on with his parents, but it wasn't enough to drive him away. No, he needed to leave because he was in love with his childhood best friend. And that wasn't okay.