Authors Note: This fic is something I decided, on a whim, to do today. It somehow progressed into a massive 25-page fanfiction with various shippings that I love, that still isn't finished. I have an epilogue to write still. Not quite sure how that happened, but oh well. I'm actually very proud of this fanfiction. It basically wrote itself, I didn't really need to think about it and I didn't hit any writers block, which is very nice. I've basically written the whole thing in one day. I started at 1 PM and now it's 9 and I'm wondering just what am I doing with my life. Oh well.
It varies between POVs a lot. It started out as Kyle's, but that changed pretty quickly when I decided to further other people's character development. All in all, this fic will be around 10K words when it's done, depending on how long the epilogue is. And I might decide to continue it. I'm not sure. Either way, I hope you'll read it! It has Style, Candy and Bunny shippings, each one of which I support fully.
I hope you guys enjoy this!
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Chapter 1: Kisses are way too Overrated
It had all started three years ago. Three years, he had held onto these feelings, clinging to them yet shoving them as far away as he could at the same time. Three wonderful, happy, painful, miserable years. And Stan had never even realized it. And now it was going to be time to graduate in just a few months, time to leave South Park for good, and Kyle still had these feelings.
The redhead sighed, rolling onto his side to watch as the rain pelted his window, running down in tiny droplets. Listening to the noises downstairs, he allowed his mind to wander, back to that night three years ago.
...
It had been at a party at Clyde's house. The entire freshman class had gotten together, celebrating their life as high school students, as well as their high school win at the Homecoming football game. It had only been a few months since they started school, but the party was long overdue.
As usual, Kyle hadn't wanted to go in the first place. "I don't want to!" He complained to Stan, who was doing his best to drag him out of his bedroom, and succeeding. There was a reason Stan had become the starting quarterback as a freshman. His strength was no joke, and although Kyle wasn't exactly a weakling, he couldn't really compete with him. Not when Stan was being stubborn.
"Come on, Kyle! It'll be fun!"
"No, it won't! I don't care about seeing everyone get drunk and Kenny hitting on every living thing and Cartman being an asshole to me and you and Wendy doing who-knows-what in Clyde's bed!" Okay, so maybe he had always been a little bitter about those two. Pulling his arm away from Stan, he went back to his bed, hoping that Stan didn't see his reddening face. After a few moments, there was a soft groan followed by footsteps. He felt the bed shift under Stan's added weight and did his best to suppress flinching when a hand touched his shoulder.
"Okay, um. First off, Wendy and I haven't done anything further than kissing. And I still puke when we do that, so there hasn't been much of it. And second, it's not like Kenny and Cartman are any different any day of the year."
"Yeah but they'll be drunk this time."
"Everyone will be. It won't just be them."
"Like that's a good thing."
"Well yeah, I mean. People won't really remember the party that way."
"But isn't a celebratory party? Shouldn't they want to remember?"
"Dude, this is just a farce for getting drunk,"
"All the more reason to not go then."
"Fine. If you're not going, then I'm not going either." This gets Kyle's attention.
"No way, man, you have to go. You're like, their hero. Star quarterback of the South Park cows and all that. You need to be at your own party."
"Tough luck then. I'll just disappoint all those people."
"You're really dumb sometimes, you know that?"
"If dumb means valuing my best friend's company over all other people, then yes, I am." Kyle, not knowing how to respond to that statement, had rolled over to face Stan. His blue eyes were fixated on Kyle, who, doing his best not to stammer and blush like a complete imbecile, had finally given in. After all, how could he resist Stan after that?
The party had, quite frankly, sucked ass. Kyle had been overwhelmed all night, arguing with Cartman over stupid things and trying to get Kenny to lay off the alcohol, of which there was no shortage.
"C'mon, Kenny, haven't you had enough yet?"
"Fuck no," the blonde replied, slurring his words. "I ain't paying for this shit, gotta appreciate it while I can." Kyle sighed, trying to pull the fifth bottle of beer he had gotten that night out of his hands. Moaning a complaint, Kenny pulled away and staggered a few feet away from Kyle. "Why don't you go worry 'bout your little boyfriend?" He slurred, giggling. "I bet Stan could use a wingman right now." He says, pointing at said boy, who's desperately trying to keep a conversation going with Wendy over in another corner. Smacking Kenny for the boyfriend comment, he walks over to them, just as Wendy pushes past him.
"Oh, good Kyle," she said, anger in her voice. "Go be with Stan. It's obvious who he cares more about anyway." With that , she spun around, her black hair nearly hitting his face, and stomped away.
"What was that all about?" Kyle said, turning to Stan, trying not to be embarrassed by her comment.
"Wendy wanted to hang out after the party tonight and I told her you and I already had plans."
"We don't though." Stan stares at him in disbelief.
"Yeah we do! It's Friday! What about our Friday night sleepovers?"
"Dude, you could miss one for Wendy. She is your girlfriend."
"I'm not sure about that anymore. She's pretty angry now." Stan groans, pickin up the nearest beer. Popping the tab, he chugged it down in one going. "Whatever. C'mon Kyle, let's enjoy the party!" Without having a choice, Kyle is pulled after Stan towards the open bar and the living room, which had been transformed into a mass of dancing bodies.
Apparently Stan's idea was to get dead drunk. After a couple of beers, the boy was dancing with the rest of the crowd (quite horribly, might I add) and screaming something about getting chickens in here. Kyle groaned inwardly as people whooped and cheered while Kenny started swinging from the chandelier in the foyer.
"Kenny, get down! You'll break it!"
"Hell no! This is awesome!" Kenny yelled back, having the time of his life.
"Yeah stupid Jew, lighten up! Oh wait, I forgot it's clinically impossible for Jews to have fun. They'll implode or something like that."
"Fuck you, Cartman!" Kyle screamed back, whirling to face the fatass.
"Whoa man, don't include me in your gay little fantasies, that's Stan's area of expertise."
"You fatass, why don't you go get alcohol poisoning or something!"
"Ey! I'm big-boned! And I can handle my alcohol!"
"So can I!"
"Then why haven't you drank anything, Jew rat!"
"Because someone has to get Stan and Kenny's drunk asses home!"
"God, you're such a little fag for those two!"
"I am-" He's interrupted as Stan, who is past the point of no return at this point, stumbles in front of Kyle to flip Cartman off.
"Fuck off, man." he grumbles, glaring daggers at the fat boy. "Kyle doesn't have to deal with your shit." Cartman, not sensing the murderous aura around Stan, who is hopelessly intoxicated and already upset over fighting with Wendy, takes a step forward and sneers at the two.
"And here's the little princess's knight in shining armor. Whatcha gonna do, punch me?" And that's exactly what Stan does. It's a relatively weak throw, but Cartman can't really dodge it. He takes up too much room to do that. In a flash, the two are on each other, punching and kicking each other. Kenny does some kind of jump-flip thing from the chandelier landing squarely on Cartman's shoulders.
"Ey! Kinny! Get the hell off!" Laughing crudely, the blonde flips him off.
"You got this, Stan! Beat the living shit out of him!" The group is surrounded by teenage boys and girls alike, all chanting 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' at the top of their watching this insanity for a few moments, Kyle decides he has had enough. Turning around and shoving through the crowd, he manages to reach the front door and heads though it into the chilly night air.
Seeing him turn and leave, Stan, after landing another well-aimed punch at Cartman's face, turns and races after Kyle, calling after him. Complaints and angry comments that it's over and voiced until Cartman manages to throw Kenny off his back. The blonde hits a wall and falls to the ground, moaning. However, he's back up in a second, taking Stan's place, and the two boy departure is soon forgotten.
"Kyle! Kyle, wait up!" Stan calls, stumbling on the slippery dew-covered grass. Sighing, the red head turns and looks back, waiting for him to catch up. When he does, Kyle moves Stan's arm around his own shoulders, grabbing it with one hand and supporting his waist with the other.
"Dude, you drank way too much." Kyle mutters, helping the black-haired boy walk, or rather, stumble, home. "Be more careful."
"I know," Stan replies. "But it's the easiest way to forget things between me 'n Wendy. Did I tell you we're not dating more than we are now? It seems like she picks a fight over every little thing I do. It's not cool."
"In her defense, you have been ignoring her lately. You hang out with me and Kenny over her, rarely respond to her texts, hardly talk to her in school."
"Why're you taking her side? You're s'pposed to be my best friend." Kyle looks up to see Stan staring down at him, those big blue eyes practically glowing in the moonlight. Looking away as they cross the street, Kyle shakes his head a bit.
"I'm not taking her side, Stan, I'm just saying. Wendy's great, you could give her a little more attention."
"Far as I'm concerned, no one's greater than you, Kyle."
Thanking God that it's dark outside and Stan can't see his blushing face, Kyle replies "I know, but you don't have to spend every second with me."
"Yeah, yeah." Stan sighs as they reach his house. Leaving him for a moment, Kyle takes the key from under the welcome mat and unlocks the door. The two silently sneak upstairs, taking extra caution when they pass Stan's parent's room. Entering his bedroom, Kyle lets Stan sink onto his bed, before sitting down beside him. Stan rolls over to stare at Kyle, who's looking out the window at the moon, now high in the sky.
"Dammit, why do I always screw things up between me and Wendy?" He murmurs. Kyle glances at him, before looking away again.
"I don't know, man. You're just not good with girls."
As if those words were a trigger, before Kyle knew what was happening, Stan had grabbed his neck and shoulders and pulled him down next to him. He leaned in, eyes closed, and then the two were kissing. Kyle's eyes widen as his mind slowly registers what was happening. The warmth he feels almost immediately after, the fuzzy feeling in his chest, was enough to make his knees go weak, and he thanks God he's sitting down. When Stan pulls away, his eyes remain closed, a sleepy look crossing his face.
"I'm good with you, though." He mutters, before his breathing evens into a restful sleep. Kyle opens his mouth, but no words come out and his face slowly heats up, turning what he's sure is a firetruck-red. It didn't take much debate for Kyle to decide what to do next. He ran. He didn't care if he woke up Randy and Sharon, he just wanted out of that house. But of course, the two of them just had to be next-door neighbors. Not wanting to go home just yet, he ran and ran until he thought he might drop from exhaustion. Reaching Stark's Pond, he collapsed onto one of the benches, head in his hands, trying to make sense of what just happened.
The sound of feet crunching through the snow alerted him, and he rose his head to see Kenny approaching him. The blonde noticed him staring and waved, a tired smile wearing thin on his face.
"Yo." He said, sitting down next to Kyle. "I saw you tearing down the street past Clyde's house, man. What happened?"
"N-Nothing." Kyle responded, moving his head back to it's original position. "What makes you say that?"
"The look on your face. You look happy, depressed, angry and pissed all at the same time. Something had to have happened."
"I already said it's nothing. Why're you even here?"
"You're a terrible liar, know that Kyle? And the party kinda died down after you two left. Cartman passed out after I finished beating him and - get this - Wendy took him home. Cartman and Wendy. I wonder what's happening there. And a buncha people kinda passed out too from too much alcohol. I bailed before Clyde started asking people to help him get those losers out of his house."
"What, you let him do all that?"
"It's his party, man. And nah, Craig and Token'll help him. They always do."
"You have a point."
"Mhmm. So what's up."
"I-I'm not sure if I should tell you…"
"What, you don't trust me yet? After ten years of friendship?"
"It's not that. I'm scared you'll laugh at me."
"No way, man. I won't do that. Promise." Kyle studied Kenny's face for any sign that he was lying and found none. Sighing, he told Kenny everything. From the day Stan called him his super best friends and Kyle felt a weird fluttery feeling to what happened right after the party.
"-and that's when I ran off. And I don't know what I'm supposed to think."
Kenny thinks for a few moments thoughtfully, before placing his hand on Kyle's back. "I wouldn't worry too much. If you stress over this, Stan'll get worried too. Just wait and see what he says tomorrow, kay?"
"...So you're not surprised? At anything?"
"Maybe people who don't know you well, or people like Cartman who don't give two shits, haven't noticed, but I've been friends with you guys ages now. I've seen the way you look at him when you think no one's watching."
"Oh god," Kyle moaned, pulling his ushanka further onto his head. "I'm that obvious?"
"Like I said," Kenny laughed. "Only because I've been with you guys for years."
That night, Kenny stayed with him until Kyle was ready to go home, and then the two walked back in complete comfortable silence as the morning light began to peek over the horizon. Promising to come over before Stan did, Kenny waved bye as Kyle entered his house, before turning to cross the railroad tracks back to his own home.
As Kyle climbed the stairs to his room, ignoring his mother's angry cries about him being out all night, his feet felt like lead. Don't think about it. Those words played over and over in his head, and as he fell onto his bed and let blissful sleep take him over, he tried to do just that.
Later that day, true to his word, Kenny appeared in Kyle's room and proceeded to wake him up by throwing a stuffed dinosaur he had sitting in his closet at his face. Groaning, Kyle rolled over and blinked at the bright sunlight pouring in from the blind.
"Get up, dude." Kenny said, plopping down on Kyle's bed. "Stan'll be here any second."
"What makes you say that?"
"I saw him leave his house just as I came in."
"What?!" That's all Kyle has time to say before the door opens and Stan walks into the room, holding the back of his head, dark rings under his eyes, his skin pallid and clammy.
"Damn, I feel like shit," he muttered, sitting on Kyle's desk chair. "Hey Kenny." Kenny waved back as Kyles did his best to collect his thoughts. Thinking better of bringing it up right now, Kyle answered with something along the lines of 'Don't drink so much next time.' The three boys spent the rest of the day playing x-box and eating cheesy poofs while laughing over his crappy Cartman probably looks today.
"We beat him so bad." Stan laughs, and Kenny nods in agreement.
"But seriously, man, him and Wendy! Wendy! I still can't believe it!"
"Neither can I." Stan murmurs back, looking away. Kenny, realizing what he just said, ats Stan's shoulder.
"Sorry man. I'm sure it's nothing. This is fatass we're talking about."
"True. Anyway, I gotta get going guys. My dad wants me to go fishing with him today."
"Gross." Kenny replied. "Bet you catch nothing.
"Yeah, I know." Stan says, getting up and stretching. Kyle, realizing he's about to miss his chance, gets up as well.
"H-Hey Stan." He says, grabbing his friend's sleeve. "S-Speaking of last night," he clears his throat, trying to suppress the butterflies in his stomach for just a minute. "About the…" He trails off, hoping Stan gets the picture. However, he only stares back at him, confused.
"What about last night? Last thing I remember was punching Cartman and everything was a blur after that." Kyle's eyes widen and his face pales.
"S-So you don't remember about me taking you home or anything?"
"No. Why, did I do something?"
"N-No. I was just… just wondering." Kyle manages out a nervous laugh that he hopes sounds convincing. Feeling like he's gonna cry, he pushes Stan to the door. "Hurry up, dude. Wouldn't want to make Randy wait. You know how he is."
"Haha, yeah. See you guys tomorrow or something." He waves and then the door shuts. Kyle locks it quickly and sinks to his knees, all strength leaving him. He can hear Kenny beside him in an instant, trying to comfort him, but it might as well be doing nothing. And Kyle can't help the tears that start to overflow as he realizes that, while he's completely in love with Stan, Stan must feel absolutely nothing. Or he would have remembered something as life-changing as that kiss.