Starting Note: Wow, I'm actually shocked that I'm writing something that's solely fluff. Normally, I'm more for writing hardcore stories. Odd. Oh well, we all need a little fluff in our lives sometimes, right? Right. Anyway, this is a Stan/Kyle (Style) fanfiction. If Stan/Kyle (Style) and yaoi (boy/boy romance) isn't your cup of tea, then please read no further than this note. If you like these sorts of things then keep on trucking, my friends. Rated T for teen due to slight language and ideologically sensitive material.


A fourteen-year-old Eric Cartman was practically dying from a fit of laughter as he stared at his Jewish so-called "friend" walking down the street towards him. He felt Kenny hit him harshly in the ribs with his elbow. This caused Cartman's laughter to stop abruptly as he looked to the spot where the blow had been administered with wide eyes.

"Ow," he blinked lightly in disbelief, his honey-brown eyes eventually looking up from the wound and falling onto Kenny's face. "Ow, Kenny, that hurt!"

"Then stop laughing. It was your idea to go to this "World of Warcraft" convention in the first place. It's not Kyle's fault that we have to dress up as our characters and that his character just happens to be a girl."

"Uh, yeah it is," the brunette cackled, quickly stifling his laughter as Kyle, who was scowling murderously, arrived by his side. "Oh, ho, ho. Why hello there, Kyle. You're looking ravishing this fine evening."

"Shut up, Cartman," Kyle muttered, feeling like a fool as he blushed insanely deep. How had he been talked into this? He obviously didn't know. How had he been talked into all the other wild, life-threatening, or just plain stupid adventures that had happened in his short lifetime? Again, he had no logical answer for that question.

He felt like a moron to be brutally honest. His fiery curls had been straightened and slicked down, causing them to hang a few inches past his shoulders. This helped to give him that feminine appearance that resembled his online avatar. He wore a long jade dress, which was majestically decorated with golden designs. Said dress managed to cover his bare feet (which were now numb from standing on the snowy sidewalk). Unfortunately for him, the hem blew around in the wind, causing the dress to give him no warmth whatsoever. Even his face was painted up like a doll's. He wore a light shade of green eye-shadow to bring out his emerald orbs. Eyeliner rimmed the upper lids and half of the bottom lids of his eyes, almost giving him an alluring cat's eye look. To finish the look, his lips were slightly stained with pink lip-gloss, which gave him the taste of sweet strawberries every time his tongue grazed against his lips.

"Whoa, back up everyone, somebody's having their period tonight."

"Lay off him, Cartman," Stan demanded as he trotted up to his friends through the snow. He, too, wore an outfit that resembled his online self. His legs and knees were covered by metallic shin guards, which caused him to squeak whenever he walked.

"Aye, shut up, Tin-Man," the male with the fake, red beard hanging off of his chin shouted angrily, but he quickly melted into a sweet little boy as he saw his mother's car drive up.

"Are you and your little friends ready to go, Sweetums?" The brunette woman smiled, unlocking the doors of her car to allow the boys to pile into the backseat.

"Yes, Mom," Cartman replied sweetly with giant, innocent hazel eyes. He took his seat in the middle of the group, Kenny on his left-hand side and Kyle and Stan on his right.

Ms. Cartman started the car, put it into drive, and took off as fast as her darling little boy demanded of her.


It took three hours stuffed into the tiny car and a few arguments and harsh spats between Kyle and Cartman, but they had finally managed to arrive and settle at their destination.

"Aw, sweet!" The pudgy teen exclaimed as he saw all the costumed people walking around the room. He quickly ran into the crowd, ready to mingle and party.

"Don't go too far, Pumpkin. Mommy doesn't want to lose you," Cartman's mother called, but to no avail. She began to walk after her son, leaving the other three boys standing in a state of awe.

"Dude," Stan began, looking around at the authentic decorations, merchandise, and fellow "World of Warcraft" players with amazement. "This is so awesome."

Kyle shrugged lightly, trying to hide behind a small, decorative tree in the corner of the room. He knew that there were going to be tons of people at this silly convention, but damn, he didn't expect every player of the game to show up. He had a bright cherry blush sprawled over his face as he tried to duck behind the slender trunk of the faux tree.

"Just great, Kyle. Look at what you've gotten yourself into this time," the crimson-haired teen muttered to himself until he felt a small tap on his back. "Ah!"

"Oh, sorry, Miss," the young boy standing in front of him said with a smile. Kyle jumped lightly before spinning around on his heels to face the boy standing opposite of him. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I… I'm not-"

"I know. You're not used to these conventions, right? I've been to a couple," the raven-haired teen with mysterious gray eyes spoke with a husky voice, he had to be at least sixteen (a whole two years older than Kyle). "Would you like a drink? Punch, soda, maybe a slushy?"

"Actually, I'm not-"

"Not thirsty? That's okay. Mind if I show you around, little missy?"

Stan looked all around the room for his cross-dressed best friend. He squinted his baby-blue eyes as he turned around in a complete circle, searching for the redhead. Finally, he scoped Kyle out from amongst the enormous crowd. His heart nearly dropped into his stomach at the sight that his eyes were greeted to.

There Kyle was, another boy talking to him and leaning into him. The mystery boy rested his hand on Kyle's curvy little waist, causing the Jew to blush deeply and back up slightly. As he backed up, his backside bumped against the faux tree, causing it to drop to the floor with a loud thud. He felt his face heat up more with embarrassment.

"Hey!" The blue-eyed boy shouted with a hint of jealousy in his voice. "You!"

Stan walked up to the boy, a tough expression on his pale, blemish-free face. Kyle's made-up emerald eyes widened a bit as he noticed his super best friend enter the scene.

"Stan, what are you-"

"Don't talk," the other fourteen-year-old commanded with a soft whisper. By this point, Kyle was getting fed up with nobody letting him finish a sentence. The jock-like boy poked his finger into the gray-eyed boy's masculine chest, which was decorated with metal armor. "What exactly do you think you're doing? Hitting up on my girlfriend on like that."

Girlfriend? Did he really just call Kyle his girlfriend. The redhead's eyes grew wide as Stan wrapped an arm tightly around his waist, pulling him close, leaning into his ear.

"Go along with it," the blue-eyed adolescent whispered softly, earning a small nod from the Jew.

"O-oh, this is your girl? Damn, Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't know. But, seriously, you're really lucky to have a smoking hot girlfriend like that one," the sixteen-year-old stuttered, backing away lightly before turning and walking off to a different room in the building where the convention was being held.

The words from the elder teen caused Stan to growl and Kyle to blush. The green-eyed boy's hair had slightly curled back up at the bottom, almost gesturing that the strange comment had blown him away. However, the taller boy that was holding onto his best friend's waist was smart enough to know that the real cause was the fact that Kyle hadn't been wearing hairspray to hold the tresses in place.

"St-Stan?"

"You know something, Kyle? That guy was right. I am lucky to have you," the raven-haired boy spoke with a goofy smile on his face. The two boys hadn't even noticed that their hands were moving all over each other in awkward looking positions. Kyle's hands were now resting on Stan's chest and Stan's hands had fallen to the Jew's petite hips.

"Ahh!" The two boys heard in the background as they stared into each others' eyes, mesmerized.

"Oh my God, they killed Kenny," Stan whispered softly as his face leaned in to be only a few centimeters away from Kyle's.

"You bastards," the cross-dressed boy whispered back just as delicately, feeling his face heat up as Stan's lips grazed against his own glossy ones. As their soft lips met and pressed against each other with a gentle passion, Kyle finally had an answer to why he always got talked into such ridiculous ideas.


Ending Note: This was actually pretty quick to write. It's only midnight; that's not too late compared to how late I'm usually up writing stories. I proofread this only a few times so I know there are probably some mistakes that I missed. But, anyway, this was just a fluffy little idea that came to me while I was playing "World of Warcraft" with my dad (yes, me and my dad are geeks about things like this). Thanks to everyone who reviews, I really appreciate it.