Legal disclaimers: Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable and all other character are the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and those names are the trademarks of the Disney media organizations. Although use in this context is probably considered fair under parody law, just in case: this work was not created for profit, no money changed hands etc. Also, this story takes place at a time at which the characters shown are both over the legal age of 18. WARNING! There is a reason WRONGSICK is part of the title. Very "M."

WrongSick, RonSick

This was all just wrong, wrong, wrong! Ron Stoppable flung himself against the wall of the filthy alley and waited for the panic attack to pass. Usually they didn't last too long, but other times…

Other times he snapped completely and did things that just didn't make any sense. Like suddenly attempting to be the running back of the football team he'd been a mascot for. Like binge eating until he'd gained nearly sixty pounds. Like dropping his pants constantly. Or like using Kim, his best friend since pre-k, as a social shield; a convenient distraction that he could throw up in front of the world at large to hide his many horrific inadequacies.

It was that last one that hurt the worst. Because he did love K.P., although perhaps not in the way she thought he did. She deserved better than the web of deceptions he'd spun around her, but somehow he'd just kept letting himself dig a deeper hole instead. There had been so many times he could have stopped it, reversed the whole situation just by being honest, by telling her the real truth about what was wrong with him. But he couldn't… he just couldn't…

So here he was again, sneaking off for a secret meeting that he had to make, even though he knew the price he would have to pay emotionally later. Ironically, the low rent neighborhood he had been walking through was the kind of place he'd have been too terrified to even think of venturing into before he'd had Kim to bolster his courage. The truly ironic part was that while Kim probably saw the fact that her best friend was willing to take more chances these days as a sign that he was getting better, the truth was that it was his ever-increasing fear of the alternatives that were Ron's real motivation. Sometimes it was better to put your body in harm's way than to think of what might happen if you lived too long. Because someday, somehow, someone was going to find out.

And then Ron Stoppable, buffoon, would be something far worse. A sicko. A pervert. A.. a…

He couldn't even say the word. Not even to himself. The epitaph stuck in his throat and mind like a huge gnarly chunk of unground mystery gristle in a Bueno Nacho Meat-By-Product surprise. That's it, Ron thought. Think of food. Or more precisely, think of that wonderful grease and cheese simulacrum of food that had become one of his many escapes. How many people suspected his supposed love of Bueno Nacho came not from the flavor of the food, but the texture? Or to be more precise, the lack of it. As someone who vomited six to seven times a day from sheer nervous anxiety, Ron truly appreciated something that was pretty much the same coming back up as it was going down.

Looked and tasted about the same too. And smelled just like this alley.

Ron looked over and saw that, sure enough, he was just down the way from a dumpster behind some kind of food service place. The stench of rotting garbage and produce was bad enough, but it was the hefty aroma wafting from the overflowing grease trap that really gave the air that extra kick.

Breathing deeply, letting the foul atmosphere overwhelm his senses, Ron felt the waves of panic slowly start to recede. Good. Good. He could keep it together for a little bit longer.

After first peering around the corner to make sure no one was watching, Ron resumed his walk to his destination. And despite his fears, despite his worries, he started to feel better, his steps lightening as a sense of anticipation began to consume him.

It was so wrong, but it made him feel so good. So wonderful!

But how would K.P. feel if she knew he was cheating on her? Or, to be more precise, that his relationship with her was something that he'd never intended, and that had come long after he'd become involved with his other partner?

It made him feel terribly guilty. That was part of the reason he hadn't been able to have sex with her. Not that he could tell her that, oh no. He wasn't sure she even wanted to have sex with him… K.P. seemed to have so many issues of her own, and it was only after her emotions had been stirred to a fever by Drakken's custom designed synthodrone that she'd even seemed to open her eyes to the possibility of being more than just friends.

Hell, if it hadn't been for the fact that Shego had been so obviously tied up in the whole Eric mess, Ron suspected that things could have gone very differently. It wasn't that Kim gave off a bi-curious attitude so much as the fact that she was a creature of pure adrenaline. Ron thought back to what he'd seen when Kim and her green arch foe had fought. She seemed far more alive then… on any mission, in fact… than on the few occasions that his best friend had attempted to take their relationship to the next level.

In fact, now that he thought about it, Kim's face had almost a… dutiful expression on it during this last encounter. Like she'd memorized a book of instructions and was now performing a task as basic and mechanical as sharpening a pencil. Of course, his reaction couldn't have helped much. The fact was that his flaccid member had completely failed to respond to what it was supposed to do naturally, despite the fact that Kim's hands were actually doing a better job than Ron typically did to himself.

No, it had been the guilt that did it. He just couldn't, not knowing how badly he was deceiving her; and the fact that her self-esteem must be taking a terrible beating at her inability to get a rise out of him only made it worse. He could have sworn there were tears in her eyes as she looked at him, wondering what was so wrong with her, and he could sense her sheer desperation.

"Ron? Do you want me to…?" She asked, and he could feel the pain in her voice as she almost begged for some sign of notice. And then, when she opened her mouth and bent down to… to do THAT he suddenly knew he couldn't let it go any further. Not when he knew where the place she clearly intended to place her trembling lips had been only a few hours earlier.

His gorge rose and he'd bolted from the room, fleeing into the night even though they'd been at his own house. He hadn't even been thinking of where he was headed, but he should have known that he'd end up here. No matter what he did, every path in Ron's short life had always taken him back to this spot.

As Ron entered the shabby tenement building and began his long march up the stairs, he wondered how it had come down to this. He'd never expected something like this out of himself, certainly never wanted it. And yet, it had happened. Sometimes, when two opposing entities are thrown together, the resulting combination was more than the sum of either tallied separately. Like fire and gasoline. Vinegar and baking soda. Ron and his… his lover.

He knocked on the ancient door with the agreed upon secret knock… "shave and a haircut." Then the long, long wait until he heard the sound of chains being undone, of bolts being pulled back.

At last the door opened and Ron found himself embraced by those wonderful, strong masculine arms.

"I'm sorry I'm back so soon," Ron told the true object of his affections. "But I had a sitch with Kim and… I just needed to talk."

His lover looked at him somberly, then motioned towards the well-tossed bed that was the sole item of furniture in the shabby room. Ron heard the door close behind him and felt a gentle push on his back as he was slowly guided to the place where he had already committed so much sin. He barely even noticed the sensation of his clothes being gently peeled from his body.

Afterwards, when their physical needs had finally been satiated, Ron took the time to study his lover in repose. How strange his life had become, forced to pretend so many things that were exactly the opposite of the truth. And who would have thought that not only would his first, and most significant, relationship be with a male, but with someone who was undeniably and completely evil. Yes, if Kim ever found out, she would never forgive him.

His lover's face quirked quizzically, but Ron simply smiled, too tired to explain. How close Sensei was, he thought drowsily, when he declared me the Monkey Master.

Leaning over with his last bit of strength, he kissed his dear Bobo the chimp lovingly, and then drifted off to sleep.