I'm not exactly sure when it started. All I know was that I was a perfectly normal kid in elementary school. I was strait, I had a girlfriend, my grades were average, and so on. Well, I did curse, but that doesn't count. But when I got into middle school... Things changed. I started feeling... different, really. Even when I was with my girlfriend, it didn't feel right anymore. I felt like I belonged to someone else.

I shrugged it off at first. I mean, everybody has their doubts for about a week or two, right? So I paid no attention to it. But by the end of eighth grade, they were just overwhelming. I couldn't stand it anymore. So I dumped my girlfriend. She seemed broken about it, but I was surprisingly unaffected. My best friend seemed rather happy about this, saying that she was a bitch anyway. Funny thing is, I agreed.

I had never thought that Wendy was a bitch before. After I dumped her, my view on her changed, especially when she started blaming it on my best friend. Then Fatass came in on it and starting spreading rumors about my best friend, saying "the Jew turned Stan against us" and "the Jew's trying to brainwash Stan". Both my best friend and I became secluded from the group. We became outcasts because of the other rumors going around school, most of them focusing on Kyle. The only reason why I was considered an outcast was because I stood up for him.

I was the only one who stood by Kyle anymore, save for his family, but they were never at school and he never told them what happened. In fact, he had been coming to my house a lot more lately, just to get away from everything. But one day, everything changed for the worse.

Kyle came running to my house with tears running down his cheeks. I didn't dare to ask him what had happened; I could see the burn marks on his clothes and even parts of his skin were bright red. When I looked out the window, I saw smoke billowing towards the sky. Later, I found that his house had been burned down. Luckily everybody had survived with only a few burn marks, but I had realized something that night.

Kyle was the one I wanted to be with, ever since middle school.

I was too afraid to tell him. Instead, I just played the part of best friend, no matter how many chances I got. He spent the night almost every night ever since his house burnt down. At first, he would just sleep on the floor and I would sleep on the bed and we'd switch every other night so that he had his fair share of the bed, but then Kyle started having nightmares. He never told me what it was about, but he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

So I let him start sleeping on my bed. Only a few nights had he woke me up by clinging to me and crying, saying things I couldn't catch because he was talking so fast. I mean, I can understand Kenny easily, but Kyle's voice was cracked and shaking. After those nights, I discovered that if I hugged him throughout the night, the nightmares wouldn't bother him.

But then word got out somehow. People began calling us "gay" and saying that we were going out. Cartman began shouting "the Jew turned Stan gay!" every day to the point where I just wanted to punch him. And one day, I did. Fatass was picking on Kyle for being Jew again and I punched him as hard as I could.

He wound up in the hospital with a broken nose, suffering from a large amount of blood loss. Unfortunately yet fortunately at the same time, he didn't die, but he had learned never to even go near me again, which meant not going near Kyle either because we were never seen without each other anymore. Kyle had practically moved in.

Ever since that, people had been picking fights with me and Kyle, trying to see if someone could ever beat me. I got in a few fights, most of them ending up with me being the defeated. It was usually Kyle who saved my ass by throwing rocks at them then running away when they caught on to who it was. He always joked around, saying that he didn't want to get yelled at by me for winding up in the hospital. I couldn't believe how optimistic he could be, despite the fact that we were practically hated by the whole town of South Park.

After getting beat up a few times, someone finally figured out how to get me to actually start fighting and defending myself instead of just taking the beating. One of the guys insulted Kyle. He wound up in the hospital with three broken ribs, a black eye, four missing teeth, and a few bruised bones. After that, everybody started to insult Kyle even more than before, just to see me fight. Groups of people would just gather around the fights and call Kyle a "fucking Jew", a "whore" or any other name you can think of.

All throughout this, I held in my feelings for him, just giving him a thumbs up and a grin whenever I won a fight for him. But near the beginning of my junior year, I just couldn't take it anymore. I needed to be closer to him. I thought it would be gone by now, but I was wrong. And so, I asked him to meet me at the park after school because he was going to some afterschool club thing. He agreed and we both went to class.

After school, I waited on the swing set. Luckily nobody was around, which was just what I wanted. I thought it was because the others had learned not to pick fights with me anymore because they always wound up in the hospital. But I was dead wrong. Kyle came running around the corner, all bloody and bruised. I instantly ran towards him, but I was too late. The others had caught up to him. I didn't even see what was happening. But the next thing I knew, Kyle fell to the ground, a knife sticking out of his back.

The group left Kyle alone on the sidewalk to die. I was the only one who had ran up to him and held him closer, telling him it was going to be okay even though I knew it wasn't. I picked him up and started running towards the hospital. I didn't dare to remove the knife, knowing that I'd just make it worse. I got to the hospital and the nurses took over, bringing him to the emergency room. He was yelling for me and I was trying desperately to follow him, but the doctors just held me back. I was told to go sit down, but I refused to do so. There was no way I was leaving Kyle alone. But I had no choice.

After a few more moments of trying to get past the doctors, I finally gave up and they escorted me to the nearest chair. They sat down with me, telling me that Kyle would be okay if he got the proper treatment and if I didn't bring him in too late.

For hours upon hours I waited, nervously staring at the red sign that said 'operation in progress'. By what the doctors had told me, one of the boys had managed to penetrate one of Kyle's lungs and graze one of the main veins near the heart. He had a few broken bones, though they were all just small ones that would heal easily and quickly. There were still more wounds being discovered.

Around 11 at night, I was asked to leave. I disobeyed at first, saying that I wasn't leaving without Kyle. But they forced me out of the hospital. That night, I couldn't sleep. It didn't feel right. Kyle had always been right beside me when I was about to sleep, but now he wasn't. And when I did fall asleep, I just had nightmares of a funeral. And so, I didn't sleep. I stayed up on the laptop all night long until morning, when I could go back to the hospital.

My heart nearly stopped when they said that he wasn't in the hospital. They said that they did everything they could. Only when they said that he had snuck out had I started breathing again and my heart starting working. I instantly went searching for him. I searched everywhere, but there was no sign of the redhead.

I searched for about an hour, but there was no sign of him. But then I remembered our promise; to meet at the park. At first, I doubted that he would go there, but when I finally got there, there he was, sitting on the swing. He was shivering from the snow that was falling, wearing only a hospital gown. I was surprised nobody else had found him. I ran up to him, scolding him for leaving the hospital.

He merely just smiled up at me and said "you said to meet here, didn't you?" I ignored it and just picked him back u before I carried him back to the hospital. His skin was ice cold and he seemed pretty weak, but I tried to ignore that, despite the knots in my throat and stomach. I was afraid that he would die at any second. When we were finally at the hospital, I glanced down at him to notice that his eyes were closed and his chest wasn't moving. I shook him lightly, but there was no response. I repeated his name over and over, my voice getting louder, but there was no response from the redhead.

I ran inside the hospital and sat him down on a chair, patting his cheek as tears ran down mine. I pleaded for him to wake up, for him not to be dead. But there was no answer. I started calling him names such as "idiot" and "asshole", hoping that he would reply to them. But there was no luck. One of the doctors tried to pull me away from the seemingly peaceful boy in front of me, but I ended up elbowing him in the gut. There was no way I was going to give up; not now.

After a few minutes, my voice started to die off and become hoarse from yelling. The small pats I gave his cheeks were less frequent and with very little energy left in them. I leaned forward and wrapped me arms around him, pressing my forehead against his chest as I cried. I didn't care that everybody could see me. He was gone. Kyle, the one I loved, was gone forever.

My body was shaking by now and I was still pleading for him to answer me, though it was in a soft whisper that nobody could possibly hear. My tears fell at a slower rate, my body feeling empty and useless.

"Hey... You..." I froze at those words. "Stop crying... You're getting my clothes wet..." I lifted my head, staring up at Kyle in disbelief. His eyes were closed and I thought that I was imagining things. I looked around for a moment, trying to see where the voice was coming from, but I couldn't locate it. When I looked back at Kyle, I saw green eyes looking straight back into mine, even though the eyelids were barely open.

I sat there, frozen. I couldn't believe what was happening. My mind was whirring with many thoughts, so fast and so many that I had no idea what any of said thoughts were. The only thing I blurted out was: "I thought you were dead." He merely just gave me a small smile and replied, "You really think I'll leave you alone? You won't stand a day without me and you know it."

I frowned and then stuck my tongue out. "Oh really? I thought it was the other way around, Kyle. Who's the one always protecting you from the others, huh? The one who always beats them up?" I replied with a smirk. I was soon pulled away from him, but I gave no fight or objection. I knew that Kyle needed the medical attention as soon as possible. Even he didn't object when he was brought back into the emergency room.

Every day after he was allowed to have visitors, I would see him and tell him what had happened at dinner the night before, just to fill him in on things. We'd laugh as if he weren't lying on a hospital bed and he hadn't almost died, though the thought scared even me when it merely just crossed my mind. After about two or three weeks, he was allowed out of the hospital. We still had our troubles at school and everyone was surprised to see Kyle alive, but I still beat them up just for Kyle as long as they asked for it. I was still protective over him. In fact, I was even more protective, always sending death glares at the people I knew was in the group that had nearly killed him.

Kenny finally came back on our side and brought Butters with him. Apparently they had been going out while Kyle and I had our share of problems. Sure, Kenny always dies just about every day, but we know he'll be back the next day just to share the next perverted joke he came up with. Pip, the one who we used to pick on in elementary, even came to visit us a few times, though it was only because Butters wouldn't leave him alone about it.

Kyle and I had never really confessed to one another throughout the rest of the junior year, but I was still kinda afraid to admit it to him. Not only that, but I think it's pretty obvious. Kyle had always been one to see right through me. So instead of confessing, he just ran up to me one day and planted a kiss on my cheek. I told him that he missed, but he didn't accept the kiss, saying that he had to go to class. I caught him in the hallway, though, and pulled him into the janitor's closet just before fourth period. We were caught by Kenny when he came in just before I could even get Kyle's shirt off. He merely just laughed and left.

For the rest of high school, I continued to beat people up who insulted my Kyle and always earning a small peck on the cheek for it. We kept our relationship secret from our parents because we both still wanted Kyle to sleep at my house every night. Sure, things didn't exactly go great due to the fact that we were constantly picked on for being gay, but near the end of the school year, we found a whole group of people who supported us. I don't know how they remained secret, but they called themselves "yaoi fangirls". Apparently they had been moving in from around the country, just to see us two. No wonder the school got so fucking huge...

Anyway, after we got out of high school, we went to different high schools. Kenny and Butters went off to Kansas or something like that and Kyle and I went to Florida. Damn, is it hot down there or what?! We somehow managed to get the same dormroom, though I think it had something to do with the yaoi fangirls back up in South Park... We've bumped into them quite a lot and they said that they had split up into two different groups, one going to Kansas and one going here. So yeah; they're stalking Kyle and I and maybe even Butters and Kenny.

The day before Kyle and I were going to go back to South Park, I called Kyle. I was surprised to hear the same voice mail message from when we first got together, which was "You have reached the answering machine of Kyle Broflovski. I'm not available at the moment, but please le- DAMNIT, STAN! Get your hands out of my pants! I'm trying to leave a message for the answering machine!" I could only laugh and say that Kenny's gonna freak if he ever hears that before hanging up. Yep; that was my message for him.

We soon moved back to South Park and were surprised to see that Butters and Kenny had forc- I mean convinced the people of South Park to like us again. We got our own house and Kyle took up guitar-playing while I became a mechanic. We still got in a few fights with the others around the town, but all-in-all, we finally became accepted, though forcefully. Our lives aren't exactly perfect, but oh well. I don't exactly care. After all, nothing's perfect, right? Well, except for Kyle. Kyle's ass is perfect. Oh God, he's gonna kill me now if he reads this...

bweghbew' HELP!!! gbes;ah ewya newan aw aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Hello. This is Kyle. Stan is unconscious on the floor at the moment, but he will not require medical attention. Thank you.

P.S. Wendy is a bitch for taking my Stan away from me in elementary!

Have a nice day. ^^

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