All-American Rejection
Summary: Welcome Back. This is the start of something I wanna try, specifically scripting a fanfiction to an entire album, not just a single song. So, my first test is to the album Move Along by the All-American Rejects. Thusly, there will be 12 chapters. Hopefully, I can to have one out every three days or so, depending on my computer access. Chapter 1 is "Dirty Little Secret," after Track 1 by the same title on the album. Main pairing is Stan/Kyle. There will probably be others as the fic progresses. Review, please!
Disclaimer: I don't own the South Park characters or any of the songs on this album. I might have downloaded them, but shh!
-.-
Let me know that I've done wrong
When I've known this all along
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you
Stan Marsh did not handle break-up well. Kyle Broflovski knew this. It was why, once every month at least, he suffered a small dip in his grades. Stan needed comforting, and Kyle preferred to handle this himself. He'd seen what had happened before. The Goth kids only got worse with age. They were interchangeably in the school and the hospital, from cutting themselves. Kyle decided he wouldn't like Stan as much if the other got into that kind of life.
It wasn't as though the raven-haired youth was the only person in Kyle's love life. He'd dated a couple girls, mainly for appearance's sake. They couldn't stay away from him, but between Stan and his mother's insistence that he go through his homework three times nightly to make sure he made no mistakes, Kyle had very little time for socializing and romance and that aspect of teenage life. Besides, he had Stan to see what happened to people who did.
Stan. The only person Kyle was really close to. Over the years, they'd developed a relationship that allowed them to be remarkably candid with one another. It was Stan that Kyle had first confided to that he might feel something more than normal towards guys. It was Kyle that Stan had first admitted the real reason why he was always breaking up with girls. It was because of their relationship that they had each other.
Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know
The one thing they had made clear to each other after their relationship was opened up to include things other than friendship: no adhering to stereotypes. Neither boy would change their wardrobes to acknowledge the presence of a sense of fashion, nor would they start commenting on the clothing of others. And if one even uttered the word "super" in an exclamatory fashion, the other was definitively allowed to kill him in any fashion available.
No secret after-school games of "Twister" or spin-the-bottle. No disguising the relationship with 7 minutes in Heaven. Absolutely no Truth-or-Dare. If roped into such a game and presented with a situation where they would be with each other, whatever was required would be done to the minimum and with the enthusiasm of an 80-year-old Catholic nun.
It was perfect. They were BFFs, after all. They were entitled be close. Of course Stan and Kyle would be over at each other's homes all the time. Stan had the newest Gamesphere, and if it was the night before a critical exam or project was due, well, Kyle was at the top of the class. Who else would Stan go to for help studying or completing the project? His ex-many-times-over Wendy Testaburger? God forbid.
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
Don't tell anyone
Or you'll be just another regret
Hope that you can keep it
My dirty little secret
Kyle knew the perfection of this arrangement. He, after all, had come up with the plan. Pretty much anything they DID together was done at Kyle's house, because if there was one thing Sheila Broflovski would NEVER do, it was interrupt Kyle while he was studying. As long as his door was locked, she would leave him to his business, doing nothing but informing Kyle when food was made available and when she, Gerald, and/or Ike were leaving to do something. She had no clue that the smiles on her son and Stan's faces when they announced that they were going to study Anatomy was because of the double entendre of the statement.
At school, everything was normal. Stan hung out with Kyle no more than usual, still found time to hang out with his friends on the sports teams (Stan played anything he could), and Kyle, for his part, stayed bookish and could usually only be seen from the chest down (as his face was buried in a book). No one would have guessed that anything out of the ordinary was going on between the two. Stan continued to "date," and Kyle continued to blame his mother for his inability to do the same. Their little liaisons continued, with the occasional Friday night or weekend interruption for Stan's part of the façade, or an unplanned family outing.
Who has to know?
Kyle was quite content. He had everything he wanted. He had Stan. He had his grades. The best part was, no one would make the connection. His mother certainly had no idea that Kyle was usually finished with all his homework, even three times, before supper. That way, he was able to completely devote his nights to "helping" Stan, either in school or in life.
When we live such fragile lives
It's the best way we survive
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you
There was just one thing Kyle hadn't counted on. Wendy Testaburger got suspicious. Stan never stayed away from her for more than a couple weeks, a month at most. Now he hadn't even spoken to her in two months, and something clicked in her brain. Confronting him was out, he'd either puke on her or just stammer something out and run away. No…she'd have to be clever. But Kyle was only first in their class because Broflovski came before Testaburger alphabetically.
She'd done it for a week, hiding in trees and bushes watching what Stan did and the way he interacted with people. She noticed. There was definitely something going on between Stan and Kyle. Kyle always kept his curtains shut in his room. Some people just had too much goddamn common sense. She'd contemplated hiring "Ze Mole," but decided against it. She would go to Kyle. He wouldn't throw up on her, and he was much more vulnerable to her interrogations.
Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know
She'd found him, predictability of all predictabilities, secluded in the library, chair tipped back, book propped up on his decently-defined chest, constantly pushing hair out of his eyes. If she wasn't concerned about getting her part-time boyfriend back, she would have likely started daydreaming about ravishing HIM then and there, under the decidedly un-watchful eye of the school librarian. She slid into the chair across from him without him tearing his eyes from the page. Apparently, SOMETHING was fascinating about "The Federalist Papers." She cleared her throat softly, and smiled to herself as Kyle nearly toppled over.
"Wendy!" he hissed. "What do you want?"
"Stan," she replied equivocally.
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
Don't tell anyone
Or you'll be just another regret
Hope that you can keep it
My dirty little secret
Kyle had an "Oh Shit" moment right then. Wendy saw it in the emotions that flickered in his eyes.
"What about him?" he enquired, setting his book aside and trying not to blush. One thing Wendy loved about the nerdy boy, he wasn't very good at controlling his emotions. Never had been, really. At least he now had the good sense to avoid Cartman and his anti-Semitic comments whenever possible.
"Oh, I think you know," she replied. "I've usually broken up with him at least two more times by now, and you're spending an awful lot of time with him. I checked with the Counselor's Office, Kyle. His grades are fine. He's looking at Top 10. What are the two of you doing?"
Who has to know?
"Working!" Kyle insisted. Wendy smirked. She had him. That façade wouldn't last long. Not long at all.
"On what?" she inquired, ever-so-sweetly. Kyle had a sudden urge to beat her to death with his ushanka.
"Our Anatomy project," he said, smugly. Wendy almost scoffed. Ms. Derley had assigned the Final Anatomy project of the semester a good three weeks ago.
"Kyle, Kyle, Kyle," she said in a scolding tone. "I know you and your mother better than that. Even with Stan as a partner, you've likely had that project done for a week. At least I know you're working on Anatomy. How do you like it?" Kyle blanched, mouth agape.
The way she feels inside
Those thoughts I can't deny
These sleeping dogs won't lie
And now I tried to but it's eating me apart
Trace this nightmare
That effectively confirmed it. She reached across the table, smacked Kyle, then closed his mouth as his hand flew to his struck cheek.
"You're kidding?" she asked, both herself and Kyle. "You…and Stan? Together? Kyle, you should know better. There's no way that's going to work here." Kyle still wasn't speaking. He was, however, blushing furiously. He managed a slight nod.
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
Don't tell anyone
Or you'll be just another regret
"I'm not going to tell, Kyle. I should have known in the first place. Take care of yourself," Wendy said, standing and leaving the library, leaving a stunned Kyle. Once she was gone, he shook it off, picked up "The Federalist Papers," and tried to get back to what he'd hoped to accomplish over this break.
Had Wendy really just broken him? Had she really found out? How? He hadn't told. He beat himself with the book when he realized what he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten to tell Stan to keep up his Wendy routine. That, and he'd underestimated Women's Intuition. He only hoped that no one else had heard the exchange.
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
Don't tell anyone
Or you'll be just another regret
Hope that you can keep it
My dirty little secret
My dirty little secret
My dirty little secret
Kyle was seriously worried about the last bit. She hadn't exactly been quiet with the last bit. Anything but, in fact. There wasn't really anyone else in the library, and what did the Chickenlover give a shit about? His secret seemed safe, but he needed to have a talk with Stan, and fast. He needed to go see Wendy, ASAFP.
Running a hand through his mop of hair, Kyle hurriedly packed his bags and headed to his next class as the bell rang.
Who has to know?
Who has to know?
-.-
Author's Notes: OK then. The next one is going to be…weird. REALLY weird. The lyrics are the most disturbing things I've seen in a WHILE, and I've read a few really odd things here in South Park section. Will be entitled "Stab my Back," and will focus on Stan/Wendy, probably. I have no idea in hell how it's going to come out, but somebody (who isn't Kenny) will probably die.
Blah. Thanks for reading this, now tell me what you think. If you're brave enough, I'm thinking of issuing a challenge for "albumfics" to SP, any pairing.
Also, I was thinking of running this as an SP parallel to "High School Musical," if 1) I had "High School Musical" to refer to for plot points and such, just replacing the music with bad karaokes of the All-American Rejects by whoever had the closest personal situation to the lyrics, and 2) I wasn't so goddamn lazy.
Anyway, review kindly. I'm going to bed.
Merry Christmas, Happy (belated) Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy (insert holiday here)
El Autor.