I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK
Author's Notes:
-Stan get OWNED. Badly.
-Review, please.
-You guys are gonna hate me for making this a One-Shot.
Stan looked into the school's bathroom mirror. If you concentrated really, really hard, you were able to see past the scrawling writing about who loved who and you could actually see a reflection.
Stan chewed his thumbnail as he inspected the mirror. His raven hair definitely needed a washing, and his skin was pale as ever. If he wasn't wearing his Cows track uniform, nobody would be able to tell him apart from a goth. Even his eyes had accumulated dark bruises under them due to drinking coffee and staying up late. But goddamn, Tweek Tweak made the best coffee ever. No wonder that kid was so hooked.
Stan blinked, wondering if he'd been egotistical for looking at himself for three whole minutes. Shrugging it off, the raven haired teen trotted to his locker to get his stuff. He was especially glad that he could just go over Kyle's to deliver his makeup work; running is hard work, you know. Kyle had been sick with some sort of fever that had been traveling around. Stan had taken it upon himself to get Kyle's work to him. Because he was a good friend, and Kyle always brightened up his day.
And also because Kyle was fucking hilarious when he was loopy on meds.
Stan trotted out of the building, whistling as he walked to Kyle's house. By now, Stan had known exactly how many steps away Kyle's house was from the Park Highschool. Exactly 704 foot paces later, Stan was at Kyle's. a gloves hand knocked at the wooden door.
The door swung open, and Ike stood in the doorframe. The kid had grown, and he looked much less Canadian than he had maybe three years ago. Then again, three years ago he was obsessed with proving his pride to his heritage, so he walked around with a maple leaf stapled to his shirt. Ike yawned and motioned Stan inside.
Stan immediately walked up to Kyle's room and quietly opened the door. Kyle lay on his bed, covered in tissues and asleep. His skin was paler than Stan's, and even though he was sick, the green ushanka hat was still propped up on his head. A humidifier ran in one corner of the room, and Stab felt like he had just entered the rainforest.
"Hey, Kyle." He said, using a hand to rouse the teenager from his sleep.
Kyle's green eyes fluttered open and looked at Stan hazily, like he was seeing a hallucination. Stan smiled and pulled out his work.
"Here's your schoolwork, dude." He passed it to Kyle's floor. "You can do it later."
Kyle nodded. Thin arms wrapped around Stan's back, and Kyle pressed his lips to Stan's. Stan made an unceremonious "mmmfh!" sound. He felt Kyle's hand go through his raven hair, and suddenly wished that he had brushed it better. Sighing, Kyle pulled away from the embrace and settled back on his bed, grinning.
"Dude, you have a fever." Stan groaned, although he was bright red.
"So? It was closed mouth, prude." Kyle smirked his eyelids drooping. His smile slowly dropped, returning back to a straight line.
Stan picked himself up to leave. He snatched up his bag, and carefully touched his lips to Kyle's forehead before making his way to the door. Once he got to the doorframe he turned around.
"See ya, Ky." He said warmly. Kyle flopped on his side to answer.
"I love you... Craig."