Yes im still writing, but ive had a writers block and i meant to finish this a long time ago, but i was struck with an urge to finish this no matter what, so here i am, two in the morning with a swollen eye writing for my lovelies. Hope you like, its basically a narration of Kyles life, well parts of it anyway. UUGGGHHH im so firetrucking tired! yes ivebeen watching a shitload of smosh on youtube cuz their hawt alright? gawsh! anyway hope you enjoy and i will update my SPU story as soon as i can, well can and get inspiration, love yalls!


On a warm day in a rocky Colorado town, the air is nice. Newly arising birds chirp and prod their eggs which are due to hatch soon. People stroll through the town lazily, enjoying the rare nice day in T-shirts and shorts, smiling and greeting one another with enthusiasm. Everything about the day was calm, lazy even. The steps of the commoners, the soft wind, even the children seemed more subdued than usual, calmly enjoying the day with quieter shouts of merriment than other days.

In the midst of all of this, a couple in the hospital is in the complete opposite of the rest of the town. Agonized screams erupted from the young woman's parted bright red lips, moans following, then frantic breathing. The man was staring off to the side in horror at the woman as she panted shakily. The doctor at the foot of her bed seemed to be expectant, orders coming from a man with enough experience that they both trusted. When the final command was shouted, a baby slipped into his awaiting hands. The woman slumped into the soft pillows and the man walks over and takes her tired hand in his. She is too exhausted from labor to say anything but looks up at him gratefully. He smiled and they await for their miracle to be placed into the new parents hands.

Suddenly a gasp comes from the other room where the baby was taken in to clean up. The parents are alert in an instant, nervously clutching at each other, the man much stronger than the woman seeing as her strength has been used up.

The man walked in with their baby and they awaited the worst. However when the couple sees their child, they are all eyes on him.

The small child has quieted its passionate cries into subtle squeaks. A patch of bright red hair is already atop his head, although not much. His eyes are shut but the doctor keeps looking down at the infants face, as though it will change into some sort of angel in a quick second. The baby's pale skin seemed brighter under the fluorescent lighting. They felt both nervous and excited as this beautiful child was brought toward them. Two nurses followed the doctor, their eyes in awe and kept flickering back to the baby's face.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" the woman says with an accent.

"Your child, he opened his eyes in the other room, does anyone in your family have bright green eyes?" the doctor asked.

The woman nods, her red curly hair frizzed and shaky "Why yes, my grandfather. He had really nice eyes and he was going to come down to help me the first few weeks after the baby was born, but the plane he got on crashed a few weeks ago and he died," she was slightly subdued, then shook her head and focused "Why?"

Just then the infant opened its eyes and there were the awe striking feature that had everyone in the room mesmerized.

The baby had massive eyes, its small deep red lashes blinking sweetly, but the thing that had the people in a trance was the color. The brightest green you could ever imagine, nearly neon, the infant's irises were absolutely stunning, looked around in wonderment before settling on the woman. Its corners turn and the lower lids flattened out as it smiled. The woman was star struck as the neon seemed to somehow get brighter at the child's obvious glee. The thick ivy ring that surrounded the gorgeous iris slightly seemed darker and the pupil tinier as the baby looked at the woman and man.

Choking up, the woman reached out and almost reluctantly, the doctor handed over the beautiful eyed baby. The woman cooed at it and the man ticked its feet. The baby giggled.

"Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski, it's a boy, what are you going to name him?"

Smiling, the woman didn't even look up as she answered the question "Kyle,"

O.O.O.

As the child grew, the eyes stayed the same brilliant emerald color. People in town would hope that the family would walk around with their child so they could get a glimpse of the amazing eyes on the Broflovski child. Soon it was time to give up the child to preschool for a few hours. The child was more advanced than others, but the mother and father didn't think he should be introduced to a social environment too soon, but they didn't want to wait too long either, so there they were. Little futures preschool, somewhere on the edge of South Park, a small building to the grown-ups, a massive, whole new planet for Kyle.

"Come on Bubbi," Sheila held the three year olds hand as they walked into the building and into the room that the other children would be in was covered in bright colors of the alphabet and numerical system. Blocks, dolls, coloring books, a house setup, and other toys were set up in neat, designated corners. The children were all sitting by plastic tables set up in the middle of the room. Colors flashed as small kids passed in brightly colored unfashionable jackets chased one another around the room. Kyle's mother kissed his cheek and left. Kyle was too distracted by the overwhelming amount of people.

Across the room, a child who had been dropped off a little while earlier stood, taking in the sight of the kid. He had deep blue eyes, an average skin tone, and a too-large blue knit hat with a red rim and poofball that covered black unkempt hair. He had looked at him while he had turned around looking for his mother questioningly, seeing as he was dressed brightly in an eye popping orange coat and a green ushanka. When Kyle realized his mom was gone he turned back in the direction of Stan and the child gasped. Kyle's eyes had caught his attention. A brilliant green that seemed nearly impossible for anyone to ever obtain naturally but apparently, Kyle was a miracle. It seemed very likely with the view of his stunning eyes.

The small boy pulled the bottom of his mother's loose pants and she looked down "What is it Stan?"

Stan pointed at the green eyed boy "His eyes, pwetty,"

The mother looked at the child her son was pointing at and gasped "Why yes honey, they most certainly are, why don't you go talk to him? I'm sure he'd love a friend," and with that, she kissed his forehead and left, hurrying to catch up to the mother of the boy with the brilliant eyes.

Stan smiled and stumbled over, nearly falling as a heavyset boy tripped, then began bawling and grabbing his kneed while another child flipped him off. After what seemed like forever, the toddler reached Kyle and he smiled.

"Hi, what's your name?" he asked.

"Kyle, yours?"

"Stan!" They smiled at each other, and then set their eyes on a pile of foam blocks.

And that small moment when their eyes connected attached the two together forever.

O.O.O.

Third grade, a horrid time for all of them, seeing as their teacher was the one and only Mr. Garrison. He was a man of passion and intense hate whenever need be, and with no compassion to any of the children's feelings. When he was in a bad mood, words of spite flowed from his mouth, and homework was assigned in tremendous, almost impossible amounts, however when he was in a good mood, the children could almost hear birds sing. Lucky for them, today was one of those days.

"Alright children, today, you are going to write a paragraph on how you want the last moments of your life to be. It only has to be 3-5 sentences, and you will have the rest of the day to complete it." And with that, their ancient teacher went over to his computer and toyed around on his computer.

Stan looked over at his classmates, all diligently working. Kyle looked yup from his work, feeling the blue eyes on him, and he smiled. Stan nearly gasped at their brightness, as though no sight had ever been more brilliant, even though he has seen these orbs staring back at him a million times. "Dude, just write the last thing you want to see when you die, that's what I'm doing," and with that, Kyle got back to work, and Stan had his inspiration.

He began to write easily. When I die, I will be on a soft feather mattress. My family will have already said their goodbyes, except for Shelley because she isn't allowed at my death bed because she's a bitch jerk. Kyle will be right next to me, holding my hand and looking into my eyes. The very last sight I will see is his amazing green eyes staring back at me. He will smile but he will have tears in his eyes and I'll wipe them away with the back of my wrinkled hand and I will smile back, and the last thing I will see is Kyle's too bright eyes, and then everything will go dark and I will have died with the beauty that no one else will see.

The bell rang and everyone turned in their paper. The next week, they all got their papers back. Stan had gotten a check plus, but their rude teacher had taken the liberty to write 'GAY' in the corner. Stan ripped that piece of paper off and threw it away, then folded his paper up and kept it in his pocket. When he was home, he stuck the paper into his keepsakes box, and he always remembered the words he wrote on that paper.

O.O.O.

Stan and Kyle were now 15 years old, and knee deep in their pubescent teenage hormonal years, spiking all of their feelings, including jealousy.

The raven haired teen watched as Bebe flirted with Kyle shamelessly twirling a curl on her finger and leaning forward, showing more of her massive breasts, hoping to seduce Kyle into Homecoming. Stan was seething with anger; his sapphire eyes a cold fire willing Kyle to say no, so Bebe would scamper away in her massive red heels so perhaps Stan could ask him.

"Gosh Kyle, that shirt makes your eyes look sooooo good," Bebe said, placing a manicured hand on his arm and leaning farther forward, slowing more cleavage.

"Thanks Bebe," Kyle said, not even looking upward, as he was trying to do his chemistry packet that was assigned to them, that their teacher Mr. Jackson allowed partners, and it was SUPPOSED to be him and Kyle, but Bebe had to butt herself in to asked Kyle to the over dramatic dance.

Stan wasn't sure when he fell in love with him, but he does know it was those damn eyes that did the trick for him, those beautiful, clean, emerald orbs that shone and startled everyone at their brilliance and beauty. People would sneak him quick glances just to get a glimpse of the extraordinary eyes. Before, they were surprising, but now that the students were going through their physical and hormonal changes, they seemed a beacon of lust and want, everyone wanted to be with the boy with the bright green eyes that could look straight into a person's soul.

Including Stan, Kyle's best friend since little kids, before everyone else had a chance to taint him with their moods and thoughts, Stan had snatched him up and now, all he wanted was the redheads heart.

Which was why he was sneering at the shameless girl, trying to make her realize she isn't welcome at their small one on one gathering.

"Hey babe?" this made Kyle jump, and Stan's glare to turn colder.

"Uh, yeah?" Kyle asked awkwardly, not used to being called anything close to that. Stan tsked, wondering how the beautiful boy could not be used to the attention yet.

"Are you going to Homecoming?" she asked, smiling slightly larger.

"I don't know, why?" Kyle asked, finally looking away from his paper.

She giggled "I mean, we could go together, want to go with me?"

"Oh," Stan's heart stopped. Kyle glanced over at Stan and the Marsh boy's breath stopped at the connection of the eyes. He probably looked like an idiot, but he didn't care, it was incredibly easy to get lost in his eyes. When he turned away from his friend, Stan was dazed, almost not hearing the "Sure, why not,"

What brought him back to Earth was Bebe's much unnecessary squeal. "EEEEEP! Yay! Pick me up at 6!" and with that, she ran over to a group of girls who looked like they were trying to cover up jealous snarls with excited squeals.

And Stan's heart was seeping out of his feet at the moment. He ended up tagging along with Kenny and watching with him as Kyle awkwardly swung Bebe around on the dance floor in an elegant black suit with a green vest and red tie to match Bebe's attire of a circulation cutting red strapless dress that barely reached her mid thighs. Stan sighed for the millionth time in disgust when a pop song came on and Bebe immediately turned around and grinded against Kyle. Kyle just looked plan uncomfortable, grabbing her hips and trying to gently push her away, but she turned around and smashed her red coated lips against his, messily moving it around. Stan looked away, unable to handle it. Kenny placed a hand on his shoulder, knowing everything about Stan's crush. Everyone had a crush on the green eyed boy one time or another, even him, but he knew Stan's was the real deal, and this must be earth shattering for him.

"Bebe, I-" Kyle held her at arm's length; gently of course, Kyle never tried to hurt anyone except Cartman, who deserved it anyway.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Bebe asked, a slight seductive tone to her voice, as though she was hoping he would stop talking and just screw her.

"I'm not comfortable with this," Kyle said.

"If you're not comfortable with this then how the hell are we supposed to fuck later?" Bebe asked, as simply as though she was asking the state of her hair, which was in a bun with a few curls swirling down.

The entire of Kyle's neon eyes were exposed when they shot open at Bebe's words "What! I'm not having sex with you Bebe!"

She glared at him through thickly lined eyes "Why the fuck not?"

"Because I don't want to!" he retorted back.

She threw her hands up in the air frustrated "Auugghhh! You're impossible Kyle Broflovski, you know that? You give all these mixed signals but you never want to date anyone! What the fuck are you waiting for, Jesus-oh I mean Moses-to come down and butt-fuck you into the springs of your mattress? Get real!"

"I don't give mixed signals, I'm just being nice to everyone" Kyle reasoned.

"Well you lead people on," Stan sighed in understanding "You make us all feel like were oh so special but then you don't even give a damn about any of us. You know how many girls want you; just explain why you don't just try."

"I know what I want, and I'm sorry that you don't understand that. Your pretty, I mean, your fucking beautiful, stunning, hot, whatever, but I just can't I'm sorry," he hardly got the words out before Bebe slapped him and disappeared into a crowd of teens dry humping.

Kyle, a skeptical look on his face, turns, and heads to the table that Stan sits at, plopping down heavily and rests his head in his hand. Kenny senses the wanted privacy and stands up, trying to find the hot girl in the midst of the sweaty crowd.

"Hey man," Stan said, clapping a hand over the confused boys shoulder, feeling a prick of excitement at the contact. "I'm sorry,"

"Nah, it's all good, I didn't want to go with her anyway, just didn't want to turn her down," he shrugged and laid his eyes on Stan, who was staring rigidly at Kyle.

"What's wrong" Kyle asked.

I'm in love with my best friend, who happens to be one of the hottest, smartest, most desired guys in the whole town because of those damn eyes that are a miracle sent from heaven. I have no clue if he likes me back or if he's even gay, and I don't want to ruin our friendship but I feel if I keep this a secret any longer I will explode. Stan thought.

"Nothing, nothing at all"

O.O.O.

Stan's eyes glared at the clock on the wall, waiting for the next five minutes to pass. It was the day, the day he would look Kyle in his massive green eyes and admit he loved him, then ask him to prom if all goes as planned. This was their senior year, their year of making memories and mistakes that would last them forever, and Stan hoped that this decision wouldn't be the latter.

He looked at his friend's profile, who was writing on a piece of paper, then at the clock again. He groaned loudly, seeing as only a minute passed by. A note hit the side of his head, pulling the dark haired teen out of his trance and he opened it up. In Kyle's neat yet somehow messy scrawl, was written "Chill the fuck out dude, you look like your about to jump out of your skin"

Smirking, Stan wrote back "Shut up smartass, hey wanna hang out later?" and balled it up instead of folding it, which Kyle hated, and threw it at Kyle's cheek. Kyle groaned when he saw the paper not folded.

He wrote back after reading it "Duh retard, I always do." And when Stan read it, gave a thumbs up, not bothering to return it since the bell had just rung.

"Dude, what do you want to do?" Stan asked. Kyle looked at him and shrugged.

"Stan!" Said boy turned to see Jenny waving him over. Stan did what she wanted.

"Hey uh, Kyle's your friend right?" Jenny said.

Stan gave her a "No shit dumbass" look, not even bothering to respond to such a stupid question. She didn't mind this and went on.

"Uh, can you tell him that I asked if he wanted to go to prom, you know, w-with me," She said, looking down with brown eyes at her tiny feet and smoothing her jet black hair that reached her shoulders down.

Stan just nodded and went back to his best friend.

"What was that about?" Kyle asked.

"Oh, nothing, just wanted biology help," Stan shrugged, not even bothering to pass on her message, seeing as he had no intent to do so in the first place.

"Oh, okay, let's go," and they walked to the Marsh residence.

They tossed their jackets and bags over in a forgotten corner, seeing as they had the whole weekend to do homework. Stan went to the kitchen and grabbed chips for himself and an apple for Kyle.

Kyle was staring off into the distance when Stan had gone but when he appeared, his eyes narrowed at the offered apple "Fucking really?"

Stan gave a fake confused look "Why, why do you mean Kyle?"

"What I mean STANLEY," Kyle used his full name for emphasis and just because his super best friend hated it "Is you're getting chips and you got me a god damn apple,"

"Well Kyle I wouldn't want you getting sick now, would I?" Stan imitated the redhead's mother.

Kyle's eyes flashed and Stan's mocking face almost fell "Exactly why I WANT chips, because I can't have them at my own house so THANK," He snatched the chips from his friend's hands "you," and grabbed a handful and shoved them into his mouth.

"You dick!" and with that Stan pounced on his secret crush. They wrestled for a while until finally Stan managed to pin Kyle down. Kyle squirmed but he was much smaller than his football star friend.

"Get off!" he barked, and still chuckling, the blue eyes teen slid off him and they both rested against the front of the couch, breathing hard.

"This is nice," Kyle said, resting his head on Stan's shoulder. Stan stiffened.

"Sorry dude," he said, lifting his head back up.

"No no, it's alright, actually, uh, I kind of want to ask you some-" Kyle's phone interrupted him.

"Oh hold up, Red just texted me," Stan froze, he knew what she wanted, and he refused to miss his chance again.

"Hey Ky, can I see that?" Stan extended his hand to the phone when Kyle pulled it out of his pocket.

"Sure, here you go," He handed it over.

"Thanks" the raven boy said. As soon as it was in his grip, he flung it full force in the direction opposite of Kyle, and it landed somewhere under the stove in the kitchen.

"DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK?" Kyle shouted.

"Just let me say something, I knew what she wanted and I didn't want to miss my chance again," Stan pleaded.

The ginger glared at his friend but kept his mouth shut, allowing him to speak.

"Look, this is hard for me and you have to promise to stay my friend, ok?"

"You just threw my fucking phone, so maybe not," Kyle joked.

"I'm serious," Stan stressed.

"Okay okay!" the Jew responded.

Stan took in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself, not wanting to look any more like a pussy than he thought he did. "Kyle, I . . . Uh" they could hear the phone chime again under the stove, but they ignored it this time and Stan looked up into Kyle's big green eyes, absorbing strength from their brooding stare. "Kyle for a while, I sorta, I mean like a few years, maybe possibly um. . . love you?" He said it like a question and the words were barely out of his mouth when he choked up, but he forced the tears away.

"You sorta do or do you?" Kyle asked.

Stan blinked sadly and said "I do,"

Kyle's eyes lit up, but Stan had closed his own before he could see his friend. "Good," and with that, he pressed his friends lips against his, using his hands on the back of Stan's neck and his pink flushed cheek. Stan's eyes flew open but closed quickly as they moved against each other. Finally after a long, breathtaking few moments, they pulled apart, shit eating grins stretched across their face.

"Kyle, do you want to go to prom with me?" Stan asked, feeling more light hearted than he has in a long time.

"Fuck yeah," Kyle smirked.

"Okay then, you can answer your phone now," Stan smirked.

O.O.O.

Prom, a magical night for all the seniors who had waited their whole lives for this final school dance, basically their last high school memory before they would graduate, and tonight would be the best night of their lives.

Surprisingly, much like the night 17 years ago, it was warm, and a light breeze billowed through the town. Boys were picking up their dates, slipping corsages onto their slimmer wrists, seeing as they had dieted and groomed for weeks to look their best, and led them into their cars to take them to the Hilton hotel, where later they hoped to have even more fun than at the dance.

The same was true for Stan. He wore a recently cleaned and pressed tux with a blue vest to compliment his sapphires of eyes. He knocked on the Broflovski's door, and Sheila answered with zeal.

"Oh Stanley! Look how nice and freshened up you look. You look very handsome young man!" She said in her Jewish jersey accent, and led him to the base of their stairs.

"Thank you Mrs. Broflovski, I didn't want Kyle to be ashamed." And it was true; Stan had washed his hair several times and even used some product that his mom had brought home to give it a soft shine. It swept slightly toward his right ear and brushed against his forehead. His face was completely clear of flaws and his smile was white against his naturally pale pink lips. He looked very nice, but all he wanted was too see Kyle.

"KYLE BUBBI STANLEY'S HERE TO SEE YOU GET YOUR LITTLE TOUCISE OUT HERE!" Stan smirked. Kyle's 'toucise' was nowhere near little, Stan had admired it enough to know that much.

"I'm coming ma!" And there was Kyle, in full glory, looking amazing. He also had a silky black suit on, which complimented his slim body, but unlike Stan, he was wearing a green vest that complimented but surely didn't take away the effect of Kyle's eyes. They were framed by thick natural lashes and smooth flawless skin, besides the few freckles powdered along his high cheekbones and nose, only adding to the beauty. His hair, usually slightly frizzy and untamable, had been calmed enough to allow spirals of auburn locks to cascade down to his neck, deeply contrasting the massive eyes that were slightly squinted from his smile. Stan's mouth was open, unable to close at the specimen. He just stared into his boyfriend's eyes, those breathtaking, mesmerizing eyes, wondering how he got so lucky.

When Kyle was next to him, Stan let his elbow stick out and Kyle hooked their arms together, putting on a good show for Mrs. Broflovski, who was snapping away.

After about 58 pictures were taken, they were finally allowed to leave, with the words "Have fun! Stay safe! Don't get into trouble!" being called after them.

They drove off to the prom, where everyone was dancing and conversing. A few evil glares were thrown their way, surprisingly most by girls. When the two had gotten together, many of the girls hadn't been happy, some at Kyle for taking away the chance of dating the football star, and some at Stan for taking away the chance of dating the sweetest, smartest guys at school, and especially taking away the chance of having those emerald orbs looking at them with care. The only boy to look at them weirdly was Cartman, the rest had known it was bound to happen and were very okay with it. The couple took their own place on the dance floor and swung each other around, smiling and looking into each other's eyes.

"Dude, this is so fucking gay," Kyle laughed and Stan joined.

"Well no shit Sherlock," Stan said. Wanting to make the moment as memorable and cheesy as possible, Stan said "Ky?" he removed his hand off his boyfriend's waist and stuck his hand in his pocket.

"Hmm?" murmured the red haired boy, his face against the taller boys shoulder.

"Remember that paper that we had to write in third grade?" Stan asked.

"Dude, Mr. Garrison assigned us papers out the ass, which one?" kyle looked up at him

"The one where we had to write what our dying moment would be like?"

"yeah dude, Mom started a rampage because 'Our children shouldn't be thinking such gruesome things such as death right now' " Kyle imitated his mother.

Stan's hand curled around a piece of paper he had carefully folded in his pocket and pulled it out. Kyle's eyes widened at the sight of the neatly folded paper.

"Dude, no fucking way, not only did you keep it, but it's folded neatly?" Kyle gasped.

Stan laughed "Read it," and Kyle took the paper and read through it.

"You called your sister a bitch?" he asked when he read the part, but continued. Stan smiled when he saw his eyes widen.

Until he saw the tears.

"Uh, I'm sorry, here," Stan reached out to take the paper, but Kyle held on to it, even swiveling his body so Stan couldn't take it. Stan wished he could rewind time. He should have not even thought of showing him. When he was contemplating bringing the cherished paper, he should have thought again and stuffed it back into the little wooden box he had kept it in all these years. How he hated the thing. He wished he had just thrown it away like a normal person would have.

"Kyle I-" but before he could finish, Kyle grabbed him, still holding the paper, and crushed his lips against Stan's, with more passion than he had ever felt in his life. People stared at them and some whistled and some made teasing remarks (Cartman's loudest of course "EWW! GET A ROOM FAGS!") but they ignored it. Kyle was panting hard and every probe of his tongue burned with fiery desire. Finally, after much longer than seemed humanly possible, they separating and breathing hard.

They rested their foreheads against each others, and Kyle said "That was beautiful."

Stan smiled "So they were tears of joy?"

Kyle smacked Stan on the back of his head but smirked "Sorta,"

"They sorta are or they are?" Stan smirked back.

"Are, dickwad," Kyle looked away, trying to hide his blush. But Stan turned him back around.

"Kyle, can you promise me that, promise that, well, you know," Stan pointed to the paper. Kyle returned it to Stan.

"Yeah, dude. I mean even if we don't get married, I promise, just make sure I'm called, kay?"

Stan didn't say it, but he wasn't planning on letting Kyle go, but he didn't say that, because he didn't want to sound creepy, but he had a feeling Kyle knew just as well as he did that neither one would be leaving this relationship as long as they could handle it, because both of them loved each other, they were those kind of lovers that didn't have to say it all the time, just one look, like the one they shared now, would leave them satisfied.

O.O.O.

Stan laid on his bed, old tired eyes looking up at his true love. Stan and Kyle had gotten married their first year out of college, and were together their entire lives. They were the kind of lovers that never outgrew their love, it only replenished. In fact, most of the time, people thought they were just really good friends, until they looked at each other. People in the room were left dazed from their loving expressions.

Kyle grew to become a major lawyer, and Stan became a vet. They moved to Denver, so they could still visit their friends without being so close as to still get the aura of redneck mountain town. They moved into a nice house in the less populated side of town, seeing as they were both annoyed by too many people, and had adopted two kids, one turning out gay. Now, both of the boys were 84, and Stan had grown sickly with age. He was in the shared king sized bed, the thick bedspread covering his sagging body. Kyle sat on the side, holding his hand and trying not to cry.

"Stan, do you really have to leave?" Kyle couldn't help but say it as though he were taking a business trip, instead of what he knew was happening.

"Yes I do, I'm sorry Kyle, I mean, who else is going to help your sagging ass around the house?" They both laughed age cracked laughs, which ended in coughs and worried looks.

Kyle's eyes were closed, unable to bear the sight of his weak love being torn from him. Stan pulled a paper out of his pocket and showed Kyle.

"Remember this promise?" he asked. Kyle nodded and pulled a paper out of his pocket with the same note on it.

"You photocopied it?" Stan asked, touched.

Kyle's dry lips curved upward slightly "Yeah, when you were asleep once. I read it every day before I wake you up."

Stan rested a hand on the back of Kyle's neck and pulled him downward to his lips in a soft kiss. He pulled him down even further and whispered to him "open your eyes"

Kyle pulled away and opened his eyes, letting the beauty flow from his irises into Stan's pupils.

They were still as beautiful and massive as the day he was born. The brilliant, seemingly impossible emerald color never faded, and the people of Denver had stopped in their step to see the amazingly clear eyes. They would stop him and ask if he wore contacts, then Stan would walk up, wrap and arm around his shoulder, proudly exclaim "Nope!" and walk away with the beauty under his arm, no matter the age. They now had crow's feet and laugh lines etched around them but they never dulled, and Stan was extremely glad about that because now he would get his third grade wish, to die looking in those eyes, and in those arms as well.

Kyle went under the sheets with him and they held each other, turned on their sides so they could look each other in the face. Finally, after one more teary eyed kiss, Stan sighed and left the world, with a smile on his face.

Kyle smiled sadly at his lover as tears streaked down his face, before pulling out another object from his pocket, extra strength sleeping pills. He dumped them all into his hand and shoved them in his mouth, swallowing them with the aid of a glad of water. He snuggled back next to the cooling figure next to him, bring Stan's arms around his torso and doing the same to the deceased man. He waited for the pills to take effect with the teats running in rivers down his wrinkled face "Stan, you fool, did you expect me to live here without you?" he sighed, feeling everything go numb "I love you," and with that, he slipped into forever unconsciousness.

O.O.O.

Kenny walked to the South Park cemetery, a bouquet of roses in his arms. He passed through the iron barred gate, spikes on the tops and much taller than he was. The cemetery held many tombs, but one section held his interest. Dying flowers laid on each of the piles of dirt, slowly fading as part of the soil that held his friends forever stilled bodies. He smiled down at them, rubbing a thumb over the soft petals of a rose. One by one, he placed on above the graves of all of his deceased friends. There was Wendy, Cartman, Bebe, Craig, Tweek, who had the oldest grave of them all from a heart attack when he was 16, Clyde, Token, and everyone else in their redneck town, no matter where they moved, they all ended up here, and one day, when God decided he was worthy of finally being permanently dead, he would be allowed to visit his friends as well.

Then he found the newest gravestones, only about 6 months old. They were right next to each other, and Kenny smiled sadly, a tear escaping his face. He placed a single rose between the two graves, seeing as he knew that they shared everything, in life and death. He got down on his knees and read the stones.

Stanley Randall Marsh

R.I.P.

2001-2085

He will be missed greatly

Kenny exchanged his glance to the other gravestone, and this was the one where he truly felt his heart crack.

Kyle Jeremy Broflovski

R.I.P.

2001-2085

The boy with the emerald eyes, loved by all, destined for one

Kenny knew the tomb was right, he knew Kyle would only be for Stan and Stan alone, no matter what, and Kenny had been happy for the lovely pair, seeing as they were happy and so was he with his life.

He kissed the two tombstones and walked away, feeling the gaze of two brilliant sets of eyes, one deep blue and one striking emerald, following him from the deserted graveyard.


sooooo yahh, pretty firetrucking (again with smosh, i firetrucking love them XD) weird and random but i sorta like it and i hope you do too, reviews are beautiful like your faces, and hope you love me enough to do so. goodnight/morning