Summary: It's a perfect day and Kyle is sitting on the windowsill as usual, most likely contemplating the meaning of life. Then Stan shows up and almost gets himself killed- and Cartman and Kenny have to show up, too? Why Kyle?

Category: Humor/Romance

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of its characters. They belong to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

-o0o-

Akin to Heaven

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"I love you, dude," says Stan, trapping him in a tight embrace. Kyle wants to let out the standard reply. It's there. So close. It's struggling to get out. But try as it might, it can't. It's trapped, just like he is inside that hug.

"... Yeah," he says finally. Because what can he say?

I love you?

Because if he did, everything would be all too real.

Stan pulls away. All too soon. "Thanks for that... you saved my life."

Kyle laughs, shrugging off Stan's sincere thanks. "No problem," he says.

Because they aren't eleven anymore. This is ninth grade, the year of entry into high school. Life has never been normal for Stan and Kyle, but it seems to be worsening lately. Moments like this... they're rare.

They are sitting on the roof. The sharp and crisp air of early spring is relaxing. That is why Kyle spends the majority of his time up here, whether it be for studying, playing mind games, or just staring at the bunny-shaped clouds floating by.

Today is the first time Stan has joined him. Nearly killing himself in the process, too. Luckily, Kyle had chosen that moment to suddenly acquire remarkable upper body strength.

"Thanks," Stan says again. His black hair is slightly ruffled under his perpetual red and blue beanie. His cheeks and nose are rosy, probably due to the cold. His equally rosy lips are--

Kyle snaps himself away. "... You're welcome."

"So." Stan scoots closer to him, and all of a sudden, the world gets a little bit brighter and warmer all around. "Will you help with my homework?" He pushes a math worksheet and pencil in front of him.

"Uh-"

As soon as Stan hears this hesitation, he takes back the piece of paper. "I'm sorry, dude," he says apologetically. "You probably haven't done it, either."

He scratches the back of his head, and it's so cute that Kyle forgets that he really hasn't done it yet. "It's okay. I'll help you."

Stan's perfect toothpaste ad-worthy grin is brighter than the stars. "Thanks, Kyle. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You'd do better than I would, thinks Kyle. He considers telling Stan in a moment of pure stupidity and absence of reason, but rejects the idea. Like he always does. Like he's done for the last thousand times.

However, this time it's different. Maybe it's the heat of the moment, or the perfect, cool, crisp weather, or the way Stan's electric blue eyes are sparkling... This time it's different. "I need you tell you something," Kyle blurts. Immediately he feels stupid and useless and idiotic.

Stan just looks at him. "I know."

"It probably isn't what you think it is." Kyle sighs, looking down at his feet.

He smiles that perfect smile again, this time in a encouraging sort of way. "Try me," he says.

Kyle doesn't want to say it, that secret he's been harboring for the past year. Those individual joys and sorrows of being around his super best friend, that blossoming ache in his heart.

It's hard.

"C'mon, Kyle."

Kyle only sighs a little, but then makes the mistake of looking into those eyes. Those serene blue eyes...

They're beautiful. It's just like seven minutes ago-- it's at the tip of his tongue, but he can't seem to get it out. Try as he might, he can't. "Uh..."

Stan grins mischievously all of a sudden. "I know what you're going to say," he says.

Kyle thinks that he doesn't. "No-"

-Suddenly, soft lips come crashing onto his, and he closes his eyes tightly.

--It's so uncomfortable, this position. Kyle's left leg is hanging off the windowsill into thin air and his jacket is all twisted up in Stan's fist. Something is pressing against his right thigh and a hand is gripping the back of his neck.

Still, it is something akin to heaven. Or as close it can get on this lowly earth. Slowly, Kyle finds his own right hand trailing up to Stan's neck. His left hand is all jammed up beneath the other's.

Only once several seconds pass does Kyle summon up emough courage to open his eyes. Stan's electric ones are staring right back at him. So close. Kyle thinks it's less than an inch. Or maybe it's less than one-quarter of an inch.

He can't think. Because now, Stan's lips have left Kyle's and he's murmuring something. "You have such beautiful green eyes..."

Kyle can't quite believe this. "W-what?" he sputters. "I... mean, what was that for?"

Stan laughs. "That was what you wanted to do, isn't it?"

He is silent, looking down in his lap.

"That was what you wanted to tell me, isn't it?"

Kyle raises his head and stares at him, his eyes wide and mouth open.

"You're so cute," Stan tells him. Then he ruffles Kyle's red hair a little.

Kyle is almost too shocked to talk. "Uh... I... y-yeah..." He gulps, feeling utterly like a girl. Stan pushes him close to himself, enabling him to look over his shoulder into the heart of the city, below them.

Kyle blushes profusely, because now Stan's arms are around his waist, just like in the dream he had a week before.

Come to think of it, the scenario in his dream was exactly like this... Kyle considers this for a moment and juggles it around in his mind, but his attention is drawn to other areas when Stan kisses his cheek.

This is heaven, Kyle realizes as Stan sits pressed against him on a windowsill, three stories off the ground, fluffy white clouds floating by, a cool breeze blowing against his face.

--So why do Cartman and Kenny have to show up on the opposite side of the window-?

--The last thing Eric Cartman says before the glass shatters in his face and everything goes black is- "God, you two are such fags!"

"Mmmph," says Kenny. "Mmmph- pffh!"

"Whatever, Kenny," Stan responds, swinging his legs over to land on the floor inside, getting a First-Aid kit, and helping Kyle patch up his knuckle wounds (and kissing them in the process).

-o0o-

Eric Cartman (still) lies, forgotten, on the shiny linoleum floor of the school.

-o0o-

A/N: Not a very long fic, but I just had to write this one.

... It's so fluffy. Fluffy. Stan/Kyle.

Passedout!Cartman.

Woot.

Liked it? Hated it? Tell me if you like fluff.

Because fluff is fun to write.

Review, please-!