Day 2; Handwriting.

(Stan / Kyle)

"Fuck...Mlnn...Fuck!"

He sat at his computer desk with his tongue locked between his teeth, carefully moving his pen and grumbling and grunting to himself.

"Stan, what are you doing."

"Nothing. Practicing. For something."

Kyle sighed, continuing his drawing He fought looking up at every sound he heard, but couldn't help raising his head every time Stan raised his voice.

"What the fuck!?"

"Stan. I can't understand what you're struggling with. It seems like you're trying to draw something when I thought you were writing."

"I am. I'm writing. I just, fuck. They said we would use cursive later in life but we didn't and now mine looks all fucked up."

"Do you have to write in cursive?"

"No...but I wanted to."

"If you don't like how it's coming out, just write how you usually do."

He moved the paper littered with scribbling to the far side of his desk, let a deep breath out and let his shoulders slack, then adjusted himself to sit up straight. Then, he started writing. Kyle watched him for a bit, seeing he was much calmer this way, and went back to his art.

Minutes of silence went by.

Kyle opened his binder to slip his finished drawing into a pocket, then put the binder away. He lifted his head to see Stan placing a letter into an envelope. He watched him seal the envelope and write on the front, he watched him place a stamp in the corner and he watched him stand up to face him.

"Be right back." He left his room with a small smile. Kyle sat in confusion, waiting. After a few moments, Stan returned.

"Who are you sending that letter to?"

"You."

Stan took his place next to Kyle on the bed. Kyle looked him over.

"It has to be mailed. It's special that way."

"..Okay."

Kyle continued looking at Stan, looking for something, but all that he was given was a simper and a question.

"Wanna play Mario Party now?"

"...Yeah. Okay."

"Can I be Luigi today?"

"No. Be Mario."

Stan laughed at his boyfriend, feeling self satisfaction in such a title. He felt complete knowing there would be many more days like this, as there already have been. His only concern in that moment was the chance that Kyle wouldn't be able to read his rushed handwriting.

-Stan's letter.-

Kyle,

Hey, dude. I know this is gay, but I wanted to write you a letter because I want to let you know how much you mean to me. Since you keep things that are important to you, you can keep this and know you mean the world to me. You're better with words than me, but I'm trying my best here. Okay.

You're beautiful. I can't imagine how it is knowing how special you are compared to all the normal people in South Park. I'm surprised your not full of yourself. The fact that your not makes you even more amazing. Sometimes I wonder if you ever count the freckles on your face, or admire your face in the mirror like I would if it was mine. I don't know if you remember what that one creepy ginger said a long time ago, that every freckle is like a kiss from an angel or something. I remember thinking it must be true and I mean it was pretty scary when he said it with the way he said it but when I thought about you, I figured that it's why you're so beautiful. I think I would probably try to count every freckle I could see if I were you. I'm guessing that'd be a lot though. I think I'd still try anyway.

You're smart. You're really fucking smart. You think so much, about everything, and even if you're not sure about something, you still talk like you're sure that you aren't sure. Everything is so matter-of fact. This is this, unless it's this. It makes me feel secure in the world, like whatever happens it's okay because Kyle said it could happen and now it happened and Kyle's gonna help me handle it because he said he would. Things can be stressful sometimes, and we can smile or we can cry but whatever we do, it's okay. It's the life we choose. Personally, I like it best when you smile. I've rarely seen you cry, but when it happens, I get this feeling of wanting to do whatever I can to get you to be happy, and I know there were times when you cried because of me and I'll forever hate past me for that, but future me promises it won't happen ever again. Promise.

You're sexy. Kyle, you don't know how sexy you are. It's dangerous. There has been so many times where I've wanted to just sex you up a wall. I fuck you in class all the time in my head. The things that you do that you don't even realize you're doing, and when I can tell you're thinking about me. You wonder why some days I can't get enough of you after school. You were teasing me all fucking day. Honestly you don't even have to try to be sexy, but if you ever were trying to turn me on I'm sure it'd take less than a few seconds. Whatever happens after that is on you. Don't play with fire Kyle. You'll get raped.

So, everything's out in the open now. Writing is so much easier than talking I swear. Even though I suck at telling you to your face how much I love you, you'll always mean more to me than you think. My future doesn't work without you.

Stan.