I really have no idea where this came from but I wrote a good chunk of it at like 2:30 in the morning (I edited at a more reasonable time though, I promise). I've never really made an attempt at writing South Park before so I'm very nervous but I'm also pretty happy with how this turned out. Zero plot to be found here but I do think it's pretty cute.

Hope it turned out okay, anyway. Enjoy! :)

The dorm bed is stiff and uncomfortable under Stan's lanky body, and he wonders how Kyle manages to sleep on it every night.

He stretches himself out, twisting to lie on his back and scratching his shaggy black hair. He begins to drift off to sleep to the rhythmic tapping of laptop keys from the desk in the corner.

There's the creak of a desk chair followed by a snort. "Comfy?"

Stan cracks an eye open to meet the gaze of the room's only other occupant. "Mm," he mumbles. "No. Your bed is hard."

Kyle rolls his eyes and turns back around to resume his typing. "It's not that bad."

They sit in silence for a moment, Stan idly observing the posters stuck to the wall. "Are you done yet?" he asks finally. "You've been over there the whole time I've been here. I'm bored."

"It's not my fault you decided to show up unannounced," Kyle says as he shuffles through some papers, making a few marks with a pen before going back to his work. "I need to finish this paper."

The room goes quiet again, and this time Stan really does fall asleep. He wakes groggily some time later to the bed dipping under another person's weight. "Didn't mean to wake you," Kyle says quietly as he settles down, leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out as far as they'll go.

"S'okay," Stan murmurs, shifting closer and turning onto his side. His face is in line with Kyle's torso, so he leans his forehead against the other boy's hip and drapes an arm over his legs. "Are you done?"

Kyle hums. "Just some editing left, no big deal." His hand comes up to run through Stan's hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Stan makes a pleased little noise that he would've been embarrassed about if he'd been more awake. "You're such an idiot," Kyle continues fondly. "I can't believe you came all the way out here just to see me."

"I miss you." Stan hooks an ankle over one of Kyle's and gently kneads his thigh just for the feeling of lean muscle under his palm. He's missed this. "I don't know why you had to go to school so far away."

Kyle shifts, sliding and twisting until he and Stan are face to face on the cramped dorm bed.

"I miss you," Stan says again. He avoids Kyle's eyes like he always does when he says something sappy. "But you seem like you're doing really well out here. I'm proud of you."

Kyle feels his face heat and his chest warm, and he moves forward to bury his face in the other boy's neck. He doesn't say anything, but Stan can feel Kyle's gratitude in the smile against his skin and the soft hand gently massaging his hip.

"I can't wait for you to come home, though," he admits quietly.

Lying here, in a familiar pair of warm arms and pressed against a broad chest, wasting a sunny afternoon with his best friend, Kyle can't help but feel like he already is.