A/N: My first slash fic. I hope it is realistic enough and I hope you like it. Stan/Cartman is a very underrated ship in the fandom and I feel there is potential there if they were actually gay. Read on!
WHY MUST I BE A TEENAGE BOY IN LOVE?
11 PM Thursday night had sixteen-year-old Stan Marsh waving a hand in farewell to his best friend in the world, Kyle Broflovski, at the front step of his house.
"Thanks again dude for helping me," Stan said, indicating a pile of homework in his arm.
"Better get it all done tonight before it's all due tomorrow," Kyle smirked.
"You have no idea how grateful I am. Mrs. Cortez might rip my head off if I didn't finish that history paper."
"Stan, I do this for you every week, it's old news by now," Kyle rolled his eyes.
"Sorry. See you tomorrow."
They waved a final farewell before Stan walked out to his car- only to find that it had been egged inside.
"What the-?"
Stan plugged his nose as the putrid smell of dozens of eggs filled his nostrils. Who on earth would do such a thing? He didn't want his parents to think he couldn't handle the new used car they had bought him. But that's when it hit him, Cartman. He had done it before already. What the hell was wrong with that guy? Why did he do this? Stan sighed as he remembered earlier that day.
"You're hanging with that Jew tonight again?" Cartman asked on the way home from school.
"Dude, he needs to help me with my homework."
"He helped you last week."
"And the week before that, and before that, and so forth. Why does it matter?"
"It matters because we were supposed to watch the Rockies game at my house tonight dipwad!"
"Sorry dude but I have to study. If I don't keep up with my schoolwork I could be kicked off the baseball team," Stan strained.
Cartman did not like this excuse. "They wouldn't do that. You're Stan Marsh- soon-to-be-starting-pitcher for the Colorado Rockies."
Stan rolled his eyes. "I don't know if I'm going to do that professionally dude."
"You are man; nobody has an arm like yours on the team. Not only can you pitch but you can hit the ball out of the park! How many pitchers can do that?" Cartman followed after him.
Stan raised a brow; it had always been odd for Cartman to praise him like that, and he had been doing it a lot lately. Sure they were the most enthusiastic about baseball in their group of friends but he still found it odd for Eric Cartman to show up at every one of his games.
"Sorry Cartman but I have to get my homework done tonight," Stan told him.
Cartman glared. "Fine! Hang with the thieving Jew! See if I care! But I'd be careful if I were you Stan, for you might be getting a nasty surprise tonight!" with that the fat boy waddled ahead of him and out of sight.
Nasty surprise- two dozen eggs to clean up now, great, Stan thought savagely. He couldn't do anything about it now but try to clean it over the weekend. He took his jacket off to sit on so he wouldn't have to sit in egg before driving home. His mother was still up when he entered the door.
"There you are Stanley! I thought you said you'd be home by 10:30," Sharon stated.
"Sorry, Ike was bugging us."
Sharon held up her nose now. "What on earth is that smell?"
Stan growled. "Cartman egged my car again."
Sharon 'tssked'. "Honestly Stan I don't know what you see in that boy."
Stan froze at that statement. "W- what?"
"He has been pulling horrible pranks on you since preschool. You have such better friends than him."
"Oh- right, yeah." Stan shook that off. That was strange. He allowed her to give him a quick good-night kiss before going into his bedroom. Stan quickly got into his pajamas, brushed his teeth and placed his retainer on his nightstand. What a long, long day. He sniffed- he still smelled of egg. He didn't think he'd be able to wake up early enough for a long shower tomorrow. He sighed and set his homework on the floor and lay in bed, tired, but unable to sleep.
Something was bothering him; why did he freeze when his mom said 'I don't know what you see in that boy?' it wouldn't have meant anything if he hadn't done so before. He remembered getting defensive with his mother when she noted he spent a lot of time with Eric Cartman two weeks ago. And for good reason, he just liked watching the game with him, that's all. Kyle was too into basketball, something that never really appealed to him, and all his other friends were into their music or football or other things. But Cartman was into football as well as baseball. He was into a lot of things Stan was into actually. He still remembered when the two of them risked catching rabies after taking care of stay cats when they were thirteen. It was that reason in fact that brought the two teens closer together actually. Stan thought it was pretty cool, Cartman seemed grateful almost for it. It was odd; it was such a simple thing they had bonded over. Cartman knew Stan was an animal lover since day one, and Stan knew Cartman had his way with cats. So why did it take so long for them to find that common ground?
Stan wasn't too surprised; he and Cartman had always had an interesting relationship. They didn't battle it out constantly like Kyle and Cartman did, nor did he find him on his side most of the time like Kenny did. No, he and Cartman had always had a special kind of relationship. Stan could still remember when they first met at preschool orientations.
Eric Cartman had been playing with a pile of blocks. He needed a train for his city though and that's when he spotted two other little boys playing with one. He went over and took it from their hands.
"Hey!" Kyle cried.
"Dat's ours!" Stan said, getting to his feet.
"Well now it's mine."
"Dat's not fair, it's ours. We was playing wif it," Stan said defensively.
"Go cry home to mommy. It's mine now dummy-brain."
"We're gonna tell," Kyle said, standing too.
"Teacher said we havta share, so you gotta share this train with me," Eric had grinned darkly.
Kyle and Stan looked at each other. He was right; Miss Claridge said they had to share. Eric had then spotted Stan's dog Ruffy.
"I think I'll use this too," he added and he grabbed it from the younger boy's hands.
"No! Give it back!" Stan cried.
"Nenenneneneneeeeehhhh! I have your doggie! I have your doggie!" he waved it above the black-haired boy's head.
It was not exactly a pleasant first experience but Stan's brain still felt he should remember it years later. In fact, Stan remembered quite a lot about Cartman over the years they had been friends. Yes friends. Even at the tender age of eight Kyle never had any problems declaring that Cartman was not his friend. Stan however always shrugged and went with the flow. Cartman was scheming and evil but he was still his friend. He didn't completely hate him the way Kyle did. He never really knew why either. Eric Cartman was horrible. He had no heart or conscience. He constantly made fun of everyone. Again, since preschool he had called Kyle out for being Jewish and Kenny for being poor. From the beginning Cartman had a tougher time calling Stan out on something. But all too soon he was referred to as a baby. By first grade Cartman thought of Stan as a hippie and a pussy. And for good reason Stan thought, with much guilt and anger in his heart. He was a pussy. He may not mind standing in the line of danger or adventure but it was the small, every day things that bothered Stan. Stan put his hands under his head as he remembered one of the first incidents.
It was first grade and the boys were outside during recess. Six-year-old Stan was nervous that whole day. His mother had told him he would be taken out of class early for a doctor's appointment. He hated seeing the doctor ever since he was small. It was always the unknown of what they might do to him, if any part of the exam would hurt, if he was going to get a shot, if anything. The too-clean smell inside the cold building made him queasy. He also hated the false smiles on the doctors and nurses faces, telling him everything was going to be okay. His parents had never been able to successfully distract him during appointments; he was always one step ahead.
When he voiced his concerns to Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny that day, all but one understood.
"You are such a little pussy Stan," Cartman rolled his eyes.
"Well what he says make sense," Kyle shrugged.
"It's so stupid and lame. Nobody is afraid of goin' to the doctor," Cartman dragged on.
"It's not just that," Stan continued. "I hate steppin' into a hospital period."
His friends looked at him funny now.
"Really?" Kyle asked.
"Uh-huh. It- it takes a lot for me to go in. I hate everything about it."
Cartman was grinning now. "You mean you can't actually step into a hospital?"
"No," Stan felt his face turn warm now.
"Gee Stan, I never knew that," Kyle said.
"I'm afraid I might throw-up on the doctor again," Stan squeaked.
At this Cartman burst out laughing. "Oh my god! Oh my god! Stan Marsh- already a pussy- can't even walk into a hospital without throwing up! Ahhahhahahaha!"
And that wasn't all. He called him out for the same thing when they were eight after they were trapped in a hospital for days. Another memory Stan still had was when they were eight again and were in Afghanistan to return a goat. Stan had already grown attached to the animal which led to Cartman calling him 'an oversensitive animal lover'. Which sadly, was, and still is, true. Another time when he was nine Cartman had to point the finger on him and call him a pussy when Stan couldn't find the guts to tell his then-girlfriend Wendy to not fight Cartman. He could still hear those words in his head to this day.
"GOD, YOU ARE SUCH A PUSSY, STAN! YOU'RE SUCH A PUSSY! When I hurt Wendy, it's gonna be on YOUR FUCKING HEAD!" Sure, Wendy was the one who actually beat the crap out of him but those words still stung.
Sixteen-year-old Stan growled as he turned over. Old memories, nothing more. But why was he thinking about them in the first place? What was his problem? He had so much more to think about these days beside his fat racist friend. Homework, baseball, other friends… and the girls who were attracted to him. God, those girls. Always all over him, playing sweetie-pie with him to get his affection. He wasn't stupid; he didn't try for a moment to acknowledge them. Usually girls in high school were attracted to the football stars, not the baseball ones. Why did they like him? They didn't really know him. Or respect his wishes. Respect… this was an odd one and for some reason it led to Cartman again. Cartman respects you.
How true this was. Every time they played when they were little kids, Cartman always allowed Stan to have the best positions (after him of course). Playing sports, especially street hockey, Kyle was dubbed the 'Jew', Kenny 'the poor kid', and he, Stan, was respectfully 'Marsh.' He always found this a nice nod to him. When they played Lord of the Rings, Cartman acknowledged Stan as the Skillful Ranger. When they were pretending Mrs. Cartman's new minivan was a spacecraft, Captain Cartman made Stan his front seat passenger, no problem. Yes, he certainly had no problem giving Stan the better end of such fantasy play.
"Goddamnit! Stop it already!" Stan said to himself as he sat up in bed, placing his bare feet on the floor. Why was Cartman coming up in his head so much tonight? It was just because of the car thing, because once again he had to get the last laugh. How he hated him so much at times. At times, Stan always gave Cartman a last chance. He had no idea why, there was no real reason for it. No reason why he had to believe for a second that the Jennifer Lopez puppet Cartman had made actually had a mind of his own. No reason why he had no problem going to the Big Tobacco Company to put a stop at Rob Reiner's campaigns. No reason why he was quick to believe something he said. No reason for anything.
Stan felt like hitting his head on the wall now. "Damnit brain, why are you doing this? I have other things to worry about other than Cartman."
Don't you find it funny how you're the only one who worries of him in the first place? His mind asked. The 'friendship' between Cartman and Kyle had been long dead for a few years now. They hardly even talked to each other anymore. Kenny hadn't changed much but he was never the caring, concerned one in the group. Butters was still the same gullible kid and enjoyed any time he had with Eric. But Stan was the only kid in high school who still worried over him. Other friends and peers came and went and all too soon gave up on Cartman. But for some reason Stan never did. He didn't do much to help him out but he couldn't ever turn him down when he needed him. Stan was sure Cartman was grateful for that.
Stan sat at his desk and ran a hand through his thick messy hair. He was tired and he knew it yet he couldn't fall asleep. He couldn't turn his brain off of one Eric Cartman and he didn't know why. The part of his brain he had been fighting for a good while now told him it was because he was attracted to him. But he knew that was a lie. Sure, Stan was gay and he knew it. Everyone knew it by now. He could still remember coming out to his parents only a few months ago.
Stan had called his parents into the living room a few days after his birthday. Kyle was with him, for moral support. He had told Kyle a month before. He thankfully was very understanding and allowed Stan to stay the night at his house after, allowed him to weep about it and fight off all his confusion. They had talked long into the night about it and Kyle did not think any less of Stan. Sometimes Stan wondered how he could have had found such a great man for a friend. But this was nothing to how Sharon and Randy Marsh might react. The two people who had been in his life since he was born. They might have harsher words for him.
"Is something wrong honey?" Sharon asked, noticing the tense look on her son's face.
Stan had been gripping the cushion of the chair he was sitting on tightly.
Kyle nudged him. "Tell them dude."
"Tell us what?" Randy wondered.
Stan swore he could pass out from not breathing at this point. This was it, now or never.
"Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you."
"We figured," Sharon smiled slightly.
He decided it was best to just get it over with. "Mom, Dad- I- I'm- gay."
The air that hung around was very thick with tension now. His parents looked at him confused.
"No way," Randy finally gasped.
Sharon looked concerned and took hold of her son's hand. "Is-is this true Stanley?"
Stan nodded. "It's true."
"For- for for how long?" Sharon gulped.
Stan glanced at Kyle before answering, "I dunno, a little while. I figured it out a few months ago maybe."
Randy was shaking his head. "You- you're lying son. This can't be true."
"It is true Dad. I'm gay."
Kyle's grip on his shoulder tightened.
"But it's not. It can't be. No way in hell is my only son gay!"
"Randy don't you dare," Sharon got to her feet.
"Our son thinks he's gay Sharon! Thinks he's fallen for other men!"
"I don't 'think' it Dad, I know it," Stan got defensive.
"You aren't! You aren't gay! Such a thing- my only son"- Randy's mouth was flapping around, not knowing what to say. He found his voice. "I knew it. I knew something like this would have happened! I knew once you decided to give football up and play baseball you'd turn funny!"
"It has nothing to do with sports Dad!"
"If you were on the football team you'd be a man! Didn't I tell you countless times you were destined to play football?"
"Not this again Randy. You promised all of us you'd never bring that up again!" Sharon shouted.
"It's true Sharon! Football's been his sport since he was four! And he decided to give it up!"
"Only because you kept pressuring me to play!" Stan cried, now on his feet too. "Like it or not Dad, I'm gay. I know it. I- I don't feel the same way about girls as I do about boys. I'm sorry but, you can either accept it or not because it's something I can't change."
Randy was still shaking his head in disbelief while Sharon allowed tears to fall from her eyes. Randy looked to Kyle now.
"Him! It's Kyle you're with isn't it? Oh my god, all that joking about, all these years, all this time- it was because you two were"-
"I'm not dating Kyle, Dad," Stan cut across him. "He's straight."
Kyle sighed. "I am Mr. Marsh, honest."
"How do I"-
"Actually, I'm not even attracted to Kyle. Sorry," Stan added, looking at his best friend.
"It's fine dude, you already told me," Kyle smiled.
Nobody spoke for a while. Stan had said all he could, all he needed to know was that his parents were okay with it. His mother was still crying about it. Stan took her hand.
"Mom…" Stan looked into her eyes desperately.
She sniffed. "I- I can't believe it but- but I've always said I'd- I'd support you no matter what happens. And- and nothing will change that. Stanley, baby…"
The two wrapped their arms around each other.
"Thanks Mom," Stan whispered in her ear.
It had been a lot to take in for his family. When Shelley got word she found it humorous more than anything. Sharon stood by her word and told him she was okay with it and did not love him any less. For Randy, it took a little longer. There had been many arguments and talks between his parents before he finally gave up and told Stan he'd accept him the way he was as well. To this day it still made him a little uncomfortable but Stan maintained the same personality and interests he always had and Randy was getting better with the thought of having a gay son by the day.
But just because he was gay didn't mean he was automatically drawn to every guy he set his eyes on. Everyone thought that's how it was for gays but he asked them if they were automatically into every member of the opposite sex they came across. They said no and that was that. Cartman was certainly not a looker to most. He defiantly was never hit on by girls in school ever. Even Butters had more of a way with women than Cartman. Cartman never was one to respect women in the first place. He was even rude to his own mother for goodness sake!
He does have bright eyes though, he thought. Stan froze.
"Aww shit, don't think that. Oh my god." Stan could have thrown up right there. Stan pulled at his hair for a moment before sighing.
"Okay, relax Marsh, this is getting silly now. Think of other things. Like how much trouble you'll be in if you arrive to class late tomorrow since you can't fucking sleep!" Stan went to his bed again but was joined by something else, one of his two cats, Napoleon. He sighed but allowed the brown tabby to circle around his bed for a moment before flopping on his ankles. Stan pet his head. Napoleon was one of the kittens he had been taking care of with Cartman years ago. His parents decided he could keep the cat on his birthday. Stan was grateful to have another cat other than his other tabby, Basha. It was because of Cartman he was able to own another pet. If he hadn't found Cartman taking care of the cats in the first place he wouldn't have this kitty right now. There were defiantly other times Stan felt grateful, even thankful, for something Cartman had done.
When he was eight, Stan had tried to save dozens of baby cows who were up for slaughter. Kyle, Butters, and even Cartman stuck behind him until the very end. The fact that Cartman did so, reluctantly perhaps, was wonderful. Unfortunately for Stan, he had fallen very ill after not eating any meat and had to be hospitalized for days. But Cartman did do something, one kind gesture while he was recovering. When his friends and family visited him in the hospital the first time, Cartman stood by his side while Dr. Doctor explained the disease Stan had fallen under. After he told everyone that Stan would be okay, Cartman placed his hand on Stan's side and said in a very sincere, honest tone, "Thank god we stopped it in time." It might not have meant too much years ago but when Stan thought about it now, it made him feel warm and happy inside. Cartman did care that he had fallen gravely ill. He did care that he would be okay.
You know that's not it, said the dark voice in his head. Stan frowned, still stroking his cat's head, thinking.
When he was eight, he had been chosen as the second coming of the original founder of scientology, L. Ron Hubbard. When he told his friends that he was sticking with it, they chose to end their friendship with them. While Stan was working on his writings, Cartman hung around for a moment to tell him in the same honest tone as before, "Stan, I just want you to know that I still hate Kyle more than you." Another odd, random thing Cartman didn't need to say, but he did anyway, and it made him feel good to this day.
At the age of nine, Cartman had tried to rid the world of hippies once and for all. He almost looked paranoid when Stan, Kyle, and Kenny had turned hippie too. Cartman had ran up to Stan and asked, "What happened? Were you bit? Did you eat their brownies? Did you eat their brownies?" he checked him, Stan, over, not the others. He seemed most worried about him.
Also at age nine, Stan had tried to stop the Japanese from killing whales. Cartman had decided to show up to 'help' shortly after. Only because Stan's efforts had soon turned into the hottest reality show on TV and he 'had' to be a part of it. Cartman didn't do anything and at the time, Stan was furious he had come along. But without Cartman he may not have changed the minds of the Japanese. And as he thought back on this memory now, Stan once again felt grateful. Sure he was only there to screw up but he was the only friend who came along period (beside Kenny). Stan tried gaining the help from his friends but they all declined as if it wasn't a big deal. Even Kyle didn't care.
Cartman came, even just for a while. Pretending to care wasn't what you needed, but he still came. Stan growled, feeling more and more frustrated.
Cartman had surprised him another time when he was eight. The day before Christmas holiday, the class had to write a festive story and read it in front of everyone else. Cartman had shocked everyone, even Stan, by his. He had written a story where he, Stan, was the main character and had to help Christmassy critters who worshiped Satan. Not only that, but the story was good. It was about him, Stan, and helping animals. Stan hung onto every word of it, eager to find out what happened next. He didn't care that in the story Kyle had turned evil and Santa might kill him to save humankind, Stan just wanted to know what Cartman had in store for him. And it was a great ending too. Kyle had died of Aids but he, Stan, was able to have a merry Christmas with his family. Stan could care less what Kyle thought of the story, he thought it was fabulous.
Stan still found it a little funny that Cartman chose to write about him of all people. He never got a straight answer from him either as to why he did it. Nor as to why he sometimes was kind to him, understanding even. When they were eight again and Stan felt left out because supposedly, all his friends got their periods but him, Cartman patted him on the back and reassured him he'd get his one day. And from the age of eight onward Cartman took the liberty of calling Stan his 'bro' at times. Nobody could be closer than 'bros' and Cartman saw Stan as his. Why he was so random with his feelings, he may never know. And then it went back to the baseball thing. Cartman showing up at every game, cheering him on. Freshman year Cartman had made a sign reading 'Marsh is #1!' and waved it whenever he was there. He had also taken liberty to go and watch practice as well which again, Stan was weirded out by.
"Why did you come today?" Stan asked him after he was finished with a late practice last year.
"To see you practice dumbass," Cartman bit back.
"But why?" Stan slung his duffle bag over his shoulder.
"You keep complaining how nobody but your mom shows up at practice. Not even the thief you call your 'super best friend.'"
"Well, Kyle has a lot of homework to keep up with. He also is a part of the Chess team and Academic Decathlon and has basketball."
"A real friend would make time to spend with you," Cartman said simply.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing hippie, god! I try and do something nice and you have to ask twenty questions!"
"Well, thanks anyway dude."
Cartman however avoided him that weekend, anger or embarrassment, he didn't know.
But this year was the only one Cartman had bothered showing up during every game. Sharing signs with Butters that cheered him on during the game. They sure did help funny enough. Stan had never been a better pitcher than he was now. He had really gotten down a great fastball, struck out many people at bat –a lot of times without looking. Was it because he was simply getting better or was it because of the encouragement from Cartman?
Stan had had it. He sat up, forgetting about the cat on his feet and turned over. He picked up a memory box from under his bed and looked inside. You do not, I repeat, do not have feelings for Cartman. Cartman of all people! You don't! He's a horrible person. Remember all the things he's done to you and your friends over the years? Remember that he took your own asthma inhaler when you were eight after he won that stupid sexual harassment case against you? Why would you like him after all of that?
But deep in his heart Stan knew he was lying to himself. He knew what love felt like; he had his share of other girlfriends beside Wendy Testaburger after sixth grade. But he didn't feel for them the way he was feeling now. The thoughts in his head, the memories circling in his brain went far deeper than anything he had ever bothered to keep track of. Stan felt the tears well in his eyes. He was attracted to Cartman. He looked at a picture of the both of them from his past birthday. He was good-looking in a way he couldn't quite explain. He had such bright eyes, nice brown hair, a great smile. This demonic, darkness to him that kept him interesting.
Stan loved honesty, he thrived on it. The last thing he needed was to lie to his own self. Cartman… Eric Cartman… he cared about Stan in the oddest of ways. But it didn't matter anymore; it was the small things that mattered. That Stan remembered and paid attention to. And Cartman was full of them. Full of simple but meaningful things that made Stan feel warm and comforted inside. He couldn't deny it now, he knew what he thought, what he felt now. He looked at the picture of Cartman smiling up at the camera.
"I- I like you Cartman. I can't hide it anymore. I'm sorry. I- I like you. Oh my fucking god, I like you," he whispered to the picture. He pressed his lips to it and dropped it sadly. This was only the beginning. Stan only just realized he may have been gay but did not know if Cartman was or not. And even if he was, did he feel the same about Stan the way Stan felt about him? All the gestures over the years would seem to point to yes, but knowing Cartman… Stan sighed heavily. He had to ask for advice from someone. Someone who knew what he might be feeling. Finally the exhaustion took over and Stan fell onto his bed, sleeping and dreaming.
Meanwhile, back at the Cartman home, Cartman had been pacing his own room for hours, his mind fighting with him as usual. Stupid Stan, hanging out with Kyle as usual. Sure they were best friends but it still pissed him off. They had been gay for each other since preschool, although now he knew only Stan was the one who was gay. Stan was gay and for some reason, it made him smile. Not out of reasons to hate him but it gave him hope. He already knew he liked Stan, knew it for almost two years at least. Any sign he gave him in the past made a lot more sense to him now although he was trying to deny any of those feelings. He hadn't been too obvious all those years he thought. They were subtle clues; he just hoped Stan would notice them sometime soon. Two dozen eggs in his car was a big enough sign he thought that showed that he was jealous.
During a fieldtrip when they were in fourth grade to a lame pioneer village, they were told by their teacher Mr. Garrison that they had to hold hands with a partner during the whole time. Cartman's first choice had been Kenny but he was already with Jimmy Valmer. So Cartman happily waddled over to ask Stan to be partners, only to see him holding hands with Wendy. Stan looked apologetic but it didn't stop Cartman from being pissed. Stan was the go-to guy after Kenny, sometimes before Kenny. It made him angry he chose to be with his girlfriend than him. Stan never put time away to hang out with just him. And Cartman thought he had given him plenty of opportunities to see it. He called him out for spending time with Wendy before but he didn't seem to get the hint. And he told him off for spending time with Kyle all the time. He had been jealous of their friendship for years. He told him when they were nine that he was grateful for the time they spent together.
He and Stan were messing around on a guy's boat one day, just the two of them. First off, how Cartman almost jumped in delight when he heard Kyle couldn't come along with him and Stan to the boats that day. He happily placed his hand on Stan's shoulder and told him, "Gee, that's too bad. Guess it's just you and me today Stan!"
"Guess so," he shrugged. Of course he was bummed his best friend was too busy but he didn't seem too upset about it so they went on their merry way. They played around for almost an hour in that boat before Cartman felt it was time to tell Stan how happy he was.
"Isn't this fun? Just you and me hangin' out Stan? No stupid Kyle around."
Stan didn't comment back, just replied with, "Man, I wish I could really drive this thing."
Of course after Cartman had given him the keys they had crashed the thing and flooded a town.
But Cartman did not give up on his quest to spend quality time with Stan. He felt proud to know he had gotten him hooked on the new Tiger Woods Golfing game and the two played it together for hours. It wasn't as if they hated each other. They did play well together when the chance arose. Video games and baseball had always been their things. It was actually rare for fights to break out when they were playing. Cartman could still remember his first fight with Stan. It had been his first play date at his house after Stan's fourth birthday party.
The two boys were in Stan's room, all his toys spread out. Cartman had taken all of Stan's stuffed animals and designated his own animal parade.
"They are mine! You hafta share!" Stan had cried.
"Well I'm the guest so that means I get to play with anything," Cartman taunted.
The play date hadn't been too successful but they did have some fun. He had gotten Stan to smile and laugh plenty, that was for sure.
"Ahh, I can always get him to laugh," sixteen-year-old Cartman sighed happily and he put hands behind his head triumphantly.
He could. Once the boys decided to dig Kyle's dead grandma up for a cool Halloween prank. It was Stan's brilliant idea to use Kyle's grandma in the first place! Once they did open the coffin Cartman thought it would be cool to pretend the dead woman was speaking to Kyle.
"Hi, Kyle," Cartman said at the side of his mouth.
Kyle had screamed.
"Have you been a good boy, Kyle? Have you been making Grandma proud?" Cartman continued.
"Damnit, Cartman, that's not funny!" Kyle said angrily.
"Yes it is," Stan had chuckled.
Not only that. Stan had found his first presentation with his Jennifer Lopez hand puppet funny too. And a funny rhyme about a man and woman's obligation to have sex he had once made up during church. And his jokes about Canada being gay. And only last year when Kyle really turned into a nerd.
"I'm Kyle Broflovski. I'm tall and thin and get straight A's and play chess and have my mom clean my bedroom every night," he said in the same mimicking voice.
Stan had choked on his milk during lunch and laughed.
"That's not funny!" Kyle snapped.
"Sorry but, he has a point," Stan grinned widely.
"It doesn't take much for me to get your sweet ass to laugh," Cartman said as he looked at a picture of Stan smiling in his baseball attire. "You're perfect Stan, do you know that? Those eyes of yours are so deep and blue… forgive me if you ever caught me looking at you one second too long before. Your hair is so wild and messy now, perfect for someone's fingers, and your smile… your smile is so nice and straight now. I knew you had it in you all these years." But that made him sigh.
Stan's smile. Both Stan and Kenny had always had the worst smiles of the four. Kenny had always been too poor to really do anything about it, and still had crooked teeth to this day. But Cartman remembered bursting out in laughter when they were eleven when he found out Stan needed braces. And laughed even more when they were twelve when he actually had them put on. He felt sore thinking about it now though.
Seventh grade had just begun. Twelve-and-a-half-year-old Stan had already had his braces for a couple weeks but Cartman still laughed whenever he saw him. Stan Marsh in braces was just too rich in his mind. But during one of the first few days of school he had gone too far. Stan was having difficulty eating anything and filled up on pudding cups and jello for lunch. The slurping sounds he was making as he ate, his lisp, the look on his face as he tried to eat…
"Hahahaha! What a fag! What a little fag!" Cartman catcalled.
"Now what's your problem?" Stan hissed.
"Look at you; you look like a fucking idiot. I mean your sister was pretty damn funny-looking with her braces and all but look at you!"
"Not this again," Kyle sighed, eyes rolling.
"Was two weeks not enough to take the crap out of me?" San raged.
"Wasth two weekths not enough to thake the crap out of methe?" Cartman mimicked and chortled again.
Stan growled, eyes blazing before wrapping his arms around his neck and throwing him down. The two fought, throwing punches and kicks. Cartman had sat on Stan minutes into the fight so he 'won.' The fight hadn't lasted long but they had both gotten in deep trouble by their parents. Cartman knew better than to tease Stan about his braces now. Even though he didn't take very good care of them, adding another year of treatment. He only got his retainer during the summer. But he had been careful about what he said about it now, knowing Stan wasn't afraid to hurt him again.
It did make Cartman upset to this day. It had been his first and only solo fight with Stan. Kyle and Kenny and even Butters had all thrown him down before, but never Stan. He was always one to just try and ignore things and pretend they didn't happen. It was pretty lame when they were younger but now… now it was okay. As if there was a reason Stan was that way. Stan… perfect sexy Stan. Nothing was sexier than when he was playing baseball. The look of concentration on his face before he threw each pitch. Thinking hard as to what pitch he should throw next. What to do to strike out the person at the plate. The smile on his face once they won a game, once his teammates congratulated him on a job well done. It was hot. All of it. He tried to make him realize this without being too obvious. It seemed to be working so far although he had gotten a tad more curious about it each day.
That wasn't the only reason Cartman had been attracted to Stan for a while now. He also admired his mind, the way he thought. Stan was a very sweet, selfless young man. He was also smart, but not smart like the Jew. The way Stan used his brain wasn't annoying. He didn't walk around with a report card littered with A's. He was pretty average when it came to school smarts. No, what Stan was great at was talking, talking with people. Listening to their problems, trying to find ways to make everyone happy. He had street smarts and people smarts. Cartman did not deny for one moment that Stan would be wonderful in whatever he decided to do. He was interesting in that way. he was a great guitar player, spent half his time helping both people and animals, was a volunteer at the local animal shelter, had the great skills during video games, and not to mention was one of the best pitchers on the baseball team South Park High School had seen in years.
Cartman looked back at the picture of Stan. "Shit man, when I think of it, you're really smart and really good at everything you do. Why- why would you want to be with me? Who the fuck am I kidding? You're perfect, but the chances of you liking me back… you're too smart for that. I've done a lot of good things for you over the years. We're actually friends now. Sure I've done my fair of shit to you but when I think of it… you do belong to me, you should. Damnit Stan you should!" he cried.
Cartman was very frustrated now. Why would he ever like him back?
"We both like cats… he- he's attracted to people with dark hair… we like baseball and football. He doesn't give me crap! He hasn't given up on me after all this time. Damnit doesn't that count for something?"
Eric Cartman was angry now. He was determined to have Stan his, was determined to at least see what might be. What he really thought of him. If it cost them their friendship… he hoped it wouldn't come to that though. He hadn't told anyone he was gay yet. He would without a doubt be the laughing stock of the school if he did. Stan would be able to keep the secret though. He trusted him. Cartman groaned at the thought but knew it was what he had to do. Make time to talk with him Saturday. He'd be able to get it out in the open and go from there. With that final thought he was finally able to fall asleep.
The next day came like any other and Stan and Cartman acted the same way around each other. Although they both wanted to know what the other boy thought of them they kept their lips sealed. Stan needed to know how to approach this situation first since he didn't know whether or not Cartman was gay and Cartman needed to know how best to break the news to Stan and hopefully, not ruin anything they already had.
Stan came home right after school to a surprised Sharon.
"You don't have any plans with any of your friends?" she asked him as she set a plate of cookies and milk for him.
"Naw. I called off practicing with Travis," Stan told her.
"Oh? But you told me you've written a song you really wanted to show him."
"It can wait." Stan took a bite out of a cookie before setting it down. He sighed. "Mom? Can- can I ask you for some advice?"
Sharon smiled and sat down across from him. "Of course sweetie."
Stan rubbed the back of his neck. This was going to be very strange but he couldn't think of anyone else to talk to.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked.
"Advice about- love."
"Oh. Ohhh…" she trailed.
"I know it's weird but I figured Dad won't be of any help and I'm not going to call and ask Shelley," he said quickly.
"No, it's- it's fine sweetie. Ask away."
"Um… see… there's- there's this guy I like but the problem is, I don't know if he'd like me back," Stan began.
"Okay. What makes you think that?"
"I don't know if he's gay," Stan said, looking at his hands.
Sharon looked at him sadly. "Well, has this other boy shown you any signs he might be?"
Stan had to smirk now. "Actually, he has. He's defiantly shown a lot of reasons to be gay. He has to be bi at least."
Sharon rubbed her chin. "Well that should stand for something. What else is troubling you Stan?"
Stan thought. "I don't know how to approach him. If he is gay, I don't know what to tell him. These- these feelings I have for him are different than anything I've ever felt before. Different than anything I've felt when I was with Wendy and the other girls in Jr. High."
"So you really like this boy do you?"
"I do Mom, I do." He sighed. "I like him more than I thought I would. I was driving myself crazy last night thinking about him. All the memories I have with him. What he might think of me. Trying to fight it but I can't any longer. I know I like him, maybe even love him."
Sharon took hold of his hand now. "This is serious Stanley. If you have such intense feelings for someone you have to get it out in the open."
"I know but I'm afraid," he admitted.
"Sweetie, you can't be afraid your entire life. I know feelings for others come and go, and that one day you begin to have urges that are completely different than anything you've ever felt before. That's when you need to make a decision and go for it. It won't do you any good to fight these feelings any longer and never react on them. You have to see how things might be. You never know, this boy might like you back," Sharon added hopefully.
"But I'm afraid Mom. Other boys have caught my eye but not like him. He's been in my head for so long. I'm afraid of risking everything I already have with him, just to see how things might be," Stan said desperately.
"Is he a friend of yours?"
"Yes," Stan admitted.
"Well I can see how you might feel now… you know, before I married your father we were friends. We had a history, many memories. But one day I realized I felt something for him that went past friendship. I saw your father in a different light, I started thinking this man could offer me the things I needed. He had been in my head for years but now, now I had to do something about it. I had to react and take the plunge. And well, the rest is history," Sharon smiled.
Stan blinked, listening.
"Do you think this boy can offer you the things you desire?"
Stan thought. "He could."
"Are you attracted to him by more than just one thing?"
"Yes. Yes, I am."
She was still holding his hands. "Then Stanley, sweetie, I say go for it."
Stan opened his mouth.
"Whether he might be gay or bi or even straight, it's important he knows how you feel. At least then you can decide on what to do next."
"He's gay. He has to be. He hasn't told anyone yet but I know that he is," Stan said suddenly.
Sharon kissed her son's hands. "Go for it. Your heart will do the rest."
Stan smiled at her gratefully and hugged her. "Thanks Mom. Thanks so much."
"Anytime."
Suddenly Stan felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and 'The Unforgiven ll' by Metallica played. He answered and gasped, it was Cartman.
"Oh, hey dude," Stan answered. He listened to him as he spoke. Stan nodded. "Yeah, no- no problem. Yeah. Okay. See you then." he hung up and turned to his mother. "That was him. He wants to meet me by the baseball field at the park tomorrow."
Sharon beamed. "Well there you go."
Stan smiled. Tomorrow, everything was going to go down tomorrow. Saturday came with bright sunlight filling Stan's bedroom. If the weather outside was to reflect how things would go down with Cartman today, he felt confident. Cartman had told him to meet with him before lunch at one of the few parks in town, East Snowy Hill Park. Stan parked his car, drew in a deep breath and walked out.
Cartman was standing by the stands at the baseball field, tapping his fingers on his arm impatiently. When was that little hippie going to show up? This was it, time to really tell him how you feel. Get it out in the open, he can hate you after. He had to remain optimistic since he knew Stan wasn't really dating anyone at the moment. He then looked up to see a teenage boy with messy black hair in his usual brown jacket come up.
"Hey dude," Stan greeted.
"Oh, hey fag."
Stan raised a brow. The nickname 'fag' didn't mean the same as it did when they were twelve.
"So uhh… what did you want to meet me for?"
Cartman shrugged. "Nothing."
"Really, what?"
The two stared at each other for a while, Cartman struggling with his mind as usual.
"I- you- you know the only person I really trust now is you right?" he began.
"Sure," Stan shrugged.
"I mean, everyone else… sort of- you know, gave up on me…"
"Yeah."
Cartman sighed very heavily. "There's something you need to know, that I have to tell you. Something I've been keeping secret for god knows how long. Not even my mom knows about it."
Stan licked his dry lips. "What is it?"
Cartman kicked at the bleachers. "Damnit I can't tell you!"
"Yes you can dude." Stan put his hand on the fat boy's shoulder to calm him.
Stan's hand sure was nice and soft on his skin… Cartman got goose bumps. "You're really going to hate me when I tell you Stan."
"After everything you've done to everyone over the years? Tell me."
Cartman glared. "Why should I tell you of all people Stan?"
"Because you want to, I can see it in your eyes. You called me over here in the first place dumbass," Stan added, harshly back.
No point starting an argument now… he gave one last sigh before saying, "I'm- I'm, I'm a fag."
Stan's heart leapt. "What?"
"A fag. A fag like you! There? Happy?" he screamed.
Actually… Stan thought. He shook his head. "For- for how long?"
"I don't know, I just know I am one. And big surprise for you isn't it, you sissy emotional douche bag?"
"Well uh"-
"I know I've done some questionable things over the years. Looking at Butters putting on a condom, sucking on Butters' balls, wanting the Jew to suck mine, willfully dressing in woman's attire. The list goes on. All of it, it's all as clear as the fucking sky!"
Stan knew better than to interrupt Eric Cartman so he allowed him to go on.
"I've been against this shit my whole life though! I've become something I hate! What the fuck?"
"It's not so bad Cartman. You've never really hated gays."
"I have so asshole!" Cartman took a threatening step forward.
"No," Stan remained grounded. "You hate Jews and hippies and pretty much anyone who isn't white. But you've never had a thing about gays."
"I gave you and Kyle crap about being gay since the beginning! I'm a fucking hypocrite now Stan! A goddamn hypocrite!"
"Hey, we all do something hypocritical now and again."
"Not you, you're perfect," Cartman rolled his eyes.
Stan's eyes went wide for a second before returning to normal. "No I'm not."
"Yes you are. You're good with people and animals, good at baseball, good at your stupid music…"
"Well it took a while for me to be good at those things," Stan said defensively.
"You got professional guitar lessons when you were ten and by your eleventh birthday you could play ten songs!"
"I'm not perfect though," Stan repeated.
"And how so?" Cartman shot.
"Let's start with the obvious, your favorite: I'm an emotional pussy!"
Cartman couldn't help but grin darkly.
"I'm sixteen Goddamnit and am still afraid of snakes, needles and the works. I mean who is really still afraid of the same things they were afraid of when they were three? I allow my emotions to get to me, I broad about things for days, wondering why life has to be so hard. Sometimes I just want to end it all. I'm a fucking drama queen. If I see a duck with a soda ring around his bill my heart breaks."
"You did try to pass that useless bill to the mayor to clean out the lake to help out the animals that live there," Cartman reminisced.
"Yeah, see? I'm not as great as you think I am Cartman."
Cartman made fists. "You still have things others can like about you. I have jack shit."
Stan ran a hand in his hair. "What did you really want to talk to me about Cartman?"
"That's it, that's all I had to say."
"There's more. Remember I'm supposedly 'really good' at talking with people," Stan rolled his eyes.
"There isn't all right?" Cartman got defensive again.
"Either you tell me or I'm just gonna go. Now tell me."
"I have feelings for someone okay?" Cartman yelled.
Stan didn't say anything; he just shrugged one shoulder and said, "So do I actually."
"Ha, you do? Who is it? Let me guess, that lame drummer friend of yours, Travis huh? If you aren't going to go gay with the Jew you'd go gay with him," the brunette smirked.
"No, I'm not gay for him."
"Then who is it?"
"It's kind of hard to tell this person because he can be such an ass at times," Stan bit, arms crossed.
Cartman narrowed his eyes. "Well it's kind of hard for me to tell this person too because he's such a fucking pussy."
"He's the most racist person at school. He has no respect for others."
"He's also a hippie and we all know how much I hate hippies."
"He's fat too; did I mention he's fat?"
"He's so serious at times. He lets his emotions get to him like a twelve-year-old girl."
The two locked angry eyes one last moment before placing hands on the other's face and bringing their lips together in a heated, passionate kiss. They let go, gasping for breath.
"How- how long?" Stan asked, frowning.
"Years butthole! You didn't see all the signs?" Cartman could have kicked him.
"They were really hard to see actually."
"I've been cheering you on at every fucking baseball game! Was the sign 'Number Nine is my Hero' not enough of a fucking clue? Egging your car again?"
Stan chuckled, still holding onto him. "You- you ass."
"What do you like most about it?" Cartman teased.
Stan just socked him and they kissed again.
"So now what do this mean?" Stan asked, minutes later.
Cartman shrugged. "I don't know about you but KFC sounds good right now."
"You idiot, I mean us."
"Well, everyone already knows you're gay…"
"Hey, if you don't want anyone knowing, I totally understand," Stan said honestly.
"Maybe, for a little while…"
"Of course, you can be my little secret. Or should I say large secret."
"Hey, you know you like it Marsh."
They chuckled again and kissed.
"Hey Stan, did you bring over your baseball stuff?"
"Yeah, why?"
A smirk came across Cartman's face. "I'd like to see you hit some rounds, maybe play catch, after lunch."
"Sure, anything."
Blue eyes gazed into brown. Not really caring about who was around at the moment, the slender fingers entwined with the stubbier ones and the two walked hand in hand back to Stan's car, ready for the best lunch date they had ever had.
I think that is it. I really hoped you liked it. I only stared it days ago and was so into it and so excited about it, I was able to finish it quickly. Please tell me what you thought of this!
Magical love: Rose, July 26, 2010