Chars: Stan, Kyle
Content: Fluff. Anorexia mention. Stan is tired and Kyle is not.
Length: Under 1000 words.

A/N: reviews or prompts would be fantastic ~ enjoy !

Kyle sighed. Stretching his arms up so his back curved, looking over his shoulder to watch himself do so in the mirror, he set his jaw. Thinking. Stretched again, arching forward and down now, encountering more difficulty in watching this time.

"Fuck," he muttered, just under his breath, but the sentiment was there. I'm so fucking skinny, he meant, facing the mirror and enacting another stretch; one that enunciated the ridges of his ribs, pulled the curve of his belly up, and his hips down. It was obvious he hadn't noticed this aspect until just recently.

The redhead frowned. Dissatisfied. Standing there in front of Shelley's full length mirror, dressed in used boxers, knowing he should probably leave his best friend's sister's room. Stan didn't have a full length mirror, though.

"Dude..? What the hell are you doing...?"

Kyle jumped, a shiver running up his bare freckled skin before he relaxed. Who else could it be? They were the only two home in any case.

"Uh, sorry. Shelley's not here, so-"

"Ky..." Stan yawned, leaning heavily against the door frame. "It's, like, seven in the morning. On a Saturday. What th' hell."

The boy nearly hit his head on the wall as he slumped slightly, sleep overtaking him for a fraction of a second. He blinked, slow as if his eyelids were so heavy it was hard to keep them even half open.

Kyle almost laughed at the sight, but kept it down to a muffled snicker.

"Shut up," Stan smirked.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you up, you're always cranky."

"I'm not cranky," Stan grinned, loopy and half-conscious. His forearm against the door frame to keep himself upright, he asked again. "What are you doing?"

Kyle frowned.

"Ah, nothing really." He looked back to the mirror once again, noting his pale features and light build with faint disdain. "I haven't seen myself, like, all of myself before."

"Checking yourself out?" Stan hummed, biting his lip. Slurring his words, tired mannerisms making him seem almost drunk.

"No, just... I'm really fucking skinny, is all."

"Well, yeah. You always have been, baby."

"Yeah, but. This skinny? Am I anorexic, you think?"

"Oh come on, no fucking way," the other boy groaned, finally coming off his crutch of the door frame to cross his arms. "You're just saying that cause Cartman did. If you were anorexic, I would know."

Kyle laughed, flattening the palm of a hand against his stomach.

"You'd probably know before I did, too."

"Exactly."

Stan smiled, wide and warm, tilting his head to the side.

"Nice view?" Kyle grinned.

"Yeah." After a moment he shook his head, clearing his throat- "I'd come in for you but I'm not allowed in there."

"You're fucking joking."

"Shelley would know if I stepped one foot in here, man, I'm not risking my life this early in the morning." He yawned again, despite gaining some more awake awareness. "Come back to bed, okay?"

"Really persuasive there." Kyle bit back a smile. "Reeeal romantic."

But despite his words he still followed the suggestion, glancing back one last time before stepping lightly across the room. Half worried that he might have left some sort of trace he'd been there, the redhead walked faster.

Stan caught him around the hips, skinny hips Kyle noted, and nuzzled his face into the curve of the other's neck. A tight hug, breath against the redhead's ear.

"You're perfect, okay? Do you really think you're not?"

"It's just. I haven't really noticed before now."

"You're perfect."

"Staaaan-ley."

"Hmmm-mm," was the reply with the same inflection. Not to mock, merely affectionate.

Kyle sighed, returning the fond actions by ruffling his hands into the other boy's hair. Just happy with standing there, the pointless fawning over each other had been a standard for years. Standing in the hallway on a lazy Saturday morning, wondering whether they should go back to sleep, impossibly content with where they stood now.

Unfortunately, Stan was close to falling asleep on Kyle's shoulder.

"Stan?"

No reply this time, just light, level breathing against the other's ear.

"Come on..." the redhead laughed, wrapping his arm around his friend's waist in order to guide him back to his room. "You're hopeless."

A low hum.

"I was in the mood, too."

Another hum, longer this time, and Stan mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Too early."

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