Hello there, lovelies! Well, it's Valentine's Day, and I figured I'd give you guys something to look forward to in your miserable, single lives. Ha ha! Just kidding. I'm sure some of you have more of a life than I have. (All I do is write fanfiction and draw. Don't be like me. Go out and LIVE!)

The title of this chapter comes from a Jimmy Eat C–World song. The lyrics are pretty much the only thing that fits here. I'm also glad I used a Jimmy Eat World song because I imagine Stan would like stereotypical emo crap. (Ironically, this song is one of the only song of their's I can stand. Aside from Drugs or Me and Big Casino. And their cover of Brown-Eyed Girl.)

Enjoy the fic, and have a lovely Valentine's Day. (My parents didn't get me chocolate this year. -bitchcomplainwhine- 8D)

"Softer"
Chapter Six

"Awwww, dude! Don't put that shit on your face! Gross! You're not supposed to–"

Kyle smeared the crap on his lips and looked at himself in the mirror. "Huh. I hope to God Shelley doesn't use this. Then it would be like kissing your sister. That would be gross."

Stan burst out laughing. "Dude! You look so weird in lipstick! Take that shit off!"

Kyle turned around and fluttered his eyelashes, grinning like mad. "But don't I look just fabulous, Stan?? Like a modern Monroe…"

Stan raised his eyebrows. "Dude, with hair like that, you should be comparing yourself to Lucille Ball."

Kyle burst out laughing. "Yeah, my hair's pretty fucked up, dude!" He turned to Stan again and fluttered his eyelashes once more. "Give Lucy a kiss, Ricky!" He leaned over, making over-dramatic smooching noises, and Stan burst out laughing, pushing him away.

"Dude! Cut that out and wipe that lipstick off!!"

Kyle nudged him, snickering. "Dude, Stan, guess who I am, guess who I am…" Stan looked over at him and had to put a hand over his mouth to keep himself from hissing out a laugh. Kyle had puffed up his cheeks and pulled on his curls to make his hair looking somewhat straight. His eyes were also crossed, and he was pursing his lips together to make himself look fat.

Stan held his sides and laughed silently, glancing back over at Kyle. "I…I dunno, dude. Who are you?"

Kyle grinned, letting out the air and nodded his head. "Here, let me give you another hint–" He shook his head and took a few deep breaths. As he was preparing his voice, Stan had a fairly good guess who he was imitating, but he had to see this. It was just too goddamn funny. After a moment, Kyle made a few croaking noises and started talking.

"Aye, seriouslah, yew gahs!"

Stan burst out laughing. "Cartman! Ha ha! That's awesome, dude! I could see him dolling himself up like that doll he keeps hidden under his bed!"

"Seriously, fatass is some kind of transvestite or something!! Oh, guess who I am now!!!" He worked up some saliva, sucked it back in making a gross sucking noise, made his voice high and nasally.

"Shut up, turd!!" He fluttered his eyelashes, looking up at the ceiling. "Oh, Skyler, I'm so in love with you, but I love Kevin, too! We've already had sex and I'm pregnant with his baby!!"

Stan grabbed his sides and let out a roar of laughter, kicking his feet against the bed, pounding his fist on his sister's bed. "Ahaha! Dude! She's… ha ha ha! She's just like that!!"

Kyle laughed. "Oh, and check this one out, dude!!" Stan by this point had doubled over and was wheezing on his sister's bed. Kyle watched him for a while, waiting patiently for him to compose himself.

After a while, Stan looked back over and sighed, rubbing his cheeks a little. "Okay, dude. I think I'm done laughing… Who are you imitating this time?"

Kyle grinned and put his hands to his heart, sitting much like a girl with his legs turning more inward. He fluttered his eyelashes. "Oh, Stan is such an activist! He makes my heart flutter like mad! Even though I can be a real bitch, I've been in an on-and-off relationship with him for years!"

Stan raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips together. "Dude, don't make fun of Wendy." Kyle just laughed and tossed his hand at him.

"Come on, dude. If you can't laugh at your girlfriend, who can you laugh at? Besides, when was the last time you actually went on a date with her? Like, a month ago? Do you even have anything in common with her anymore?" He burst out laughing and Stan pushed him a little.

"Ugh, stop laughing at Wendy, dude."

Kyle kept laughing, and after a moment he glanced over at Stan. "I can't help it, dude. Wendy's just too much of a bitch. Honestly, the way she treats you, it's like she thinks she's better than you! I just can't see why you like her so much!" He burst out laughing and Stan glared at him.

He knew a way to shut Kyle up real good. He walked over and bent down on one knee, grabbed Kyle's hand and kissed the top of it gently. "Marry me, Kyle Broflovski."

He smirked and glanced back up at his friend, entertained that he'd finally gotten Kyle to stop laughing. Kyle's face was bright red with rage, and he was glaring down at him with a stare so intense, even the dead would have felt someone watching them.

"That was gay, dude."

Stan stood up and burst out laughing. "Then next time you shouldn't make fun of my girlfriend. I love her more than anything, and one day I plan on marrying her." He gave Kyle a wink, and the redhead turned even redder, clenched his teeth.

"Dude, you kissed my hand and everything! Even if it's just a joke, you don't do that!"

Stan laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "You shouldn't get so mad, Kyle. The way you're acting, it seems like you wish you were dating her…"

Kyle burst out laughing. "Dude, I'd never try to get between you and Wendy! Besides, she's way too much like my mother! It's a major turn-off." After a moment, he put a finger to his lips thoughtfully. "Hmmm… Wait, Stan. I have a great idea!"

He ran out of the room and came back with the picture of them from last year. They were leaning against a tree, grinning, linking arms. Kyle was more subdued, contained. And Stan was just…well, he was holding his fist up in the air victoriously. They'd won some lame race or some shit like that. It was pretty cool, since they got ten bucks out of it, but still. Lame.

Kyle removed the picture from the frame and turned it over. "Dude, we have to put this on record!"

Stan raised an eyebrow. "What? Put what on record?"

Kyle laughed, grabbed the lipstick and opened it, twirling it out and holding it like a pen. He glanced at Stan and grinned. "May you always remember the day you proposed to a Jew." Stan burst out laughing and Kyle turned back to the picture, scribbling words on it.

"Oh…Stan… If only…Wendy…knew! There!" He put it up to his lips and kissed it, leaving behind an imprint of the kiss in the lipstick he'd been wearing. He showed Stan the picture and Stan burst out laughing.

"Dude, this is so gay…"

Kyle nodded his head. "Of course it is. I'm wearing lipstick. What's not gay about that? I'm gonna go wash it off now. Just a sec'."

Kyle was in the bathroom washing it off for a while, and even after he came out, some of the lipstick's colour had stayed on his lips. He groaned. "Dude, no wonder girls have such red lips. Their make-up is permanent or some shit like that! This is not cool! My mom's gonna kill me if she sees!"

Stan had put the picture back in its frame and sat it back on his bedside dresser. He looked up and snorted at the sight of how red Kyle's lips were. They were almost as red as his hair. "Yeah, well think about what Shelley's gonna do to me when she gets home. She'll be fucking pissed. She'll rip my head off!"

"No she won't." Stan blinked and looked up at Kyle, who was watching him with a determined red line where his usual smile or frown was. "Trust me, Stan. She won't."

Stan laughed. "Whatever you say, I guess."

–––––––––––––––

It was sunny outside.

Stan groaned and rolled back over towards the door to his room, away from the window. "It can't be this…" He trailed off, and the notion that it was eerily late crept up on him. It was only Tuesday; why hadn't his mother come to wake him up?

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking at the clock.

10:38 a.m.

"Wh–" He screamed and jumped out of bed, scrambling to his closet, grabbing some clothes, pulling them on as fast as he could. As he bounded down the steps, he caught sight of Shelley sitting on the couch, snickering.

He dashed into the kitchen. "Mom!! Why didn't you wake me up!? It's two hours after school started! Are we having a snow day!?"

His mother looked up from the paper and blinked. "Stanley, what are you so upset about? It's only 7 o'clock. I was about to go in and wake you up. What do you mean, two hours after school started?"

In the living room, Shelley burst out laughing, and everything became clear. He stomped into the living room, glaring. "Shelley, what's so funny!?"

Shelley grinned and held up the clock from her room. "I just changed your clock so you'd be up earlier this morning. I put a lamp by the window so it would look brighter outside. Clever, huh?"

"Shelley, that's not funny!!"

Shelley just laughed again. "It is funny, turd! I can't stand another day listening to you groaning and asking mom for five more minutes! I was late to school yesterday because your little boyfriend was late, and if I get one more tardy I have a detention!"

Stan's voice fell silent and he stared at her for a while dumbly. That was right… Kyle had stood up for him. He said Shelley wouldn't kill him last night, and he'd offered to take his punishment instead. But that was only because Kyle had gotten him into trouble with her first.

He smiled. "Okay, thanks, Shelley."

Shelley's face froze, and she gave him a weird look. "Thanks for what, turd?"

"For helping me wake up. It's alright. I'll just tell Kyle we'll walk to school today. You don't have to worry about being late today, okay?"

Shelley became indignant, probably due to the fact that her mean action had gotten praised instead, and she stalked back up the stairs. "Whatever, turd. Just don't change your mind, because I'm not going to come back and get you if you feel too lazy to walk all the way."

Stan went to the hall closet and pulled out his coat. He pulled his hoodie on and then pulled the coat on over it. He went to the kitchen and grabbed his backpack, shrugged it on his shoulders and walked out the door.

He wasn't hungry, and he didn't feel like sitting around for half an hour. Besides, he needed to talk to Kyle.

–––––––––––––––

It was Kyle's dad that answered the door. He was carrying his briefcase and holding a bunch of manila folders under his arm to keep from falling all over the ground, so Stan could only guess he was a bit late for work.

"Oh, hi Stan! Is Shelley already here?"

Stan shook his head. "Nah, I decided to give her a break today. Is Kyle up?"

Mr. Broflovski looked back in the house. "Sheila! Is Kyle up yet??"

His wife answered him from far off in the kitchen. "Oh, he's eating breakfast! Ike, drink your milk; I won't take no for an answer. Is something wrong, Gerald??"

"Oh, Stan's just here early. Apparently he's giving Shelley a break and so they need to leave a bit earlier today for school." He grimaced and stumbled out onto the steps, pushing past Stan. "Ike, come on! You're going to make me late!"

"Wait, what? You're taking Ike to school? Why don't you just take Kyle, too?"

Gerald turned to him. "Yes, didn't Kyle tell you? I offered to take him to school with his brother, but he decided he'd rather not be a burden." He turned back to the house. "Come on, Ike! Get your bag and get out here!"

Kyle's father sat his briefcase on top of his car, grabbed the keys from his pocket, opened the door and tossed the files inside. Ike dashed out the door and waved at Stan a little.

"Hi, Stan."

It was odd how much Ike had grown. He was now up to Stan's waist and fairly athletic. He was much bigger than Kyle had been when he was that age, that was for sure.

Gerald hopped in the car and threw the back door open. "Come on, Ike! No time for chitchat!" Ike wasted no time running to get into the car, and after a while Kyle's father started the car and began driving off. The briefcase, having been left on the roof of the car, slid onto the hood and Kyle's father let out some curse in Hebrew. Stan smiled a little and turned to the door.

Kyle was grabbing his book bag and pulling his coat on. His mother came out and handed him a thermos. "Come on, Kyle. Take your thermos with you. I don't like you eating that non-kosher food the cafeteria serves."

Kyle groaned and took it, making a face at Stan as if he were about to puke. Stan snickered and Sheila pushed her son out the door. "Go on, Kyle. I don't want you late to school, and I don't want you falling asleep at Stanley's house again."

They walked over to the sidewalk and Kyle turned bright red. He shoved the thermos into his book bag and glanced at Stan, whispering. "Ugh, she's so nagging…"

"And don't fall asleep at school, either!"

Stan snickered and whispered back. "Was that the excuse for not going to school yesterday?" Kyle nodded and raised his hand to let his mother know he'd heard her.

"And if you start feeling sick, make sure you eat lunch so your blood sugar doesn't go haywire! Scheduled eating is key!"

Kyle turned back and gave his mother a broad smile. "Thanks, Mom! I love you!" His father had pulled out of the driveway and was driving down the street now.

His mother put a hand over her heart and smiled. "Oh, I love you, too, boobala! Tell me that more often, okay?"

She shut the door and Kyle stretched his arms. "Oh my God, she's so annoying…" Stan laughed a little.

"What was that just now? You looked totally convincing."

Kyle looked at him, incredulous. "Are you kidding?? With my mom, I've learned how to act. I could probably lie on a lie detector test or something and not be caught the way my mother's forced me to keep up this good little boy act."

Stan rolled his eyes. "So, why didn't you get a ride from your dad? You wouldn't be so late to school all the time."

Kyle waved his hand a little. "Nah, I'd rather ride to school with you than Ike. I mean, he's my little brother and all, but you're my best friend. Besides, when I ride with Shelley, I get to annoy fatass for a little bit longer than usual."

Stan laughed again. After a while they walked in silence, and Stan was walking in the yards, listening to his feet crunch in the snow. For a while he walked, thinking about how to approach it. Sure, Kyle was his best friend, so it was normal for him to put himself on the line for Stan's well-being, but he wasn't sure Wendy would. Wendy was a bit…iffy lately. And it was true, he didn't have much in common with her anymore.

"Kyle…"

Kyle stopped and looked back at him, and Stan realized he'd stopped walking, too. He gave his friend a small smile. "Thanks."

Kyle blinked. "Thanks for what?"

"Shelley told me what you did last night. So, thanks. I know you just felt guilty about making her late and thus making her beat me up, but still, it means a lot."

Kyle's eye twitched. "What? She told you!?" He took a few steps over and leaned over to his best friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. His hand was shaking, and it was obvious Kyle was pissed off that Shelley had told him anything. "Look, Stan, I did that because you're my best friend, not because I was guilty. It pisses me off when she thinks she can just beat up on you without any consequences, and I think you deserve better than that."

Stan looked him over. "Yeah, but didn't your mom wonder where you got the bruises or something?"

Kyle laughed. "She didn't beat me up."

His eyes widened. "What?? She didn't??"

"No, dude. She started crying and patted me on the head. Then she told me to leave."

Stan's mouth dropped. "She…she started crying. You're serious? She was really crying??"

Kyle laughed. "Yeah, dude! She started crying, and pretty heavily, too. I feel sorry for her. She doesn't know anything about friendship. She thought I was doing it because I didn't think you were enough of a man to take her punishments. I let her think that was why, but still. I can't believe she didn't think it was because I cared about you, dude. Your sister's fucked up."

Stan grew quiet and nodded. "I guess so…"

–––––––––––––––

It was around lunchtime; Kyle was sitting where he usually sat, eyeing the odd-looking stew in his thermos. "My mom has two dishwashers and sets of dinnerware for this shit. What the hell, dude?"

Stan shrugged and licked the banana pudding off his spoon. "Dude, Kyle, bet you wish you could have the food the cafeteria serves, huh??" He acted like he was really enjoying it, even though it had the same consistency as chalk and the dryness, as well. "Mmmmm, better than your mom's cooking; that's for sure…"

Kyle clenched his teeth and looked ready to throttle him, but Stan just laughed. After a moment, Kyle grinned wickedly and grabbed the spoon from his friend's mouth, shoving it into his own and tasting that nasty crap. He spit it out. "Ah, dude!!! This tastes like shit!!! No wonder half the kids bring their own lunches!!"

A moment later, they felt a dark, chilly presence waft past them, and the two middle-school Goth-boys wandered past their table. The littler of the two stood up onto his tiptoes and whispered, "Fags," into the other's ear. The red-streaked Goth snickered and glanced over at them, winking snidely and flipping the fringe out of his eyes.

"Got that right…"

Stan glared back at him, flipping them off. This just amused them further. However, before they could fully pass the table, their way was blocked by Henrietta. She had her hands on her hips and was giving them the evil eye. She pursed her lips together and quirked a brow.

"You got something to say about Stan? Why don't you say it to my face. Thorne, Peter."

After a moment of tense silence, Thorne, the Goth with red-streaked hair that resembled an overgrown patch of weeds, nudged the shorter one, Peter. "Come on, Pete." After a moment, he nodded his head in the direction of Henrietta, as if in invitation, but he was still looking at Peter. "Let's go out back and have a smoke."

They paused there for a moment, and Henrietta shook her head. "No. That won't work. I'll smoke by myself, thanks." They deflated slightly, their heads turning toward the ground, before they walked away. Stan grinned and gave her a high-five as she walked up to him.

"Nice, Henrietta. It's obvious they miss you. You'll win them over yet."

Henrietta sat down beside him, hanging her head and moaning. "I hope so. I really miss them… I'm just fucking sick of their holier-than-thou attitudes. They're too fucking elite for their own goddamn pants. And I know it's because of Nicholas! That stupid fuckhead!"

Stan nodded. "Don't worry. Nicholas'll suffer when Thorne and Peter stop hanging out with him." Henrietta glanced over at him, with an odd expression on her face. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Ah, goddamn, you gahs. Why does fatty Goth chick have to sit here? Stan, tell her to leave. Seriouslah."

Cartman walked over to their table and set a tray piled high with food down on the table, sitting across from Henrietta.

Henrietta narrowed her eyes, glaring at him with every ounce of hate she possessed in her eyes. She sneered. "Th-the-th-th-th-the-th-that's easy for you to say, Porky."

Kyle burst out laughing, slapping her a high-five. "Dude! That was epic!!!" Stan followed his example, instead remarking on how much more witty she was than Cartman ever could be.

Cartman glared. "God damn it. Shut up, fags."

Kyle smirked. "That won't work, dude. From now on, I can only see you wearing a bow-tie and having a severe speech impediment."

Wendy walked by their table with Bebe, and Stan jumped up. "Wendy! I need to ask you something!"

She turned around, fidgeting slightly with her tray and trying to hide the fact that she'd ordered something that was slightly fattening. She glanced at Bebe and nodded, handing off her tray to her blonde friend. Bebe smiled and accepted it, giving Stan a "You better not even think about breaking up with her" look before walking away.

He dragged Wendy off to the side, held her hand. After a moment he looked up at her; she was frowning a little, in expectation of the inevitable break-up…again. As much as she hated to admit it, she was the one that did the breaking-up, so she had no idea how she'd be able to handle being dumped.

Stan just smiled.

"This has nothing to do with me breaking-up with you… I still love you, Wends."

She smiled shyly and kissed him on the lips, pulling back and swinging his hand a little, playfully. "Okay…so what do you want to ask me, Stan?"

It took him a moment to gather for words, as his mind went completely blank. He fought for the right way to say it, spitting it out with more difficulty than chewing rubber. "Would… Would you…intentionally…get…b-beaten up…in my…stead?"

She gave him an incredulous look and dropped his hand, bringing her palms out in an exaggerated "what" gesture. "What? Stan, babe, why are you the one asking me to protect you?? That should be the other way around. Are you a pussy or something?"

He frowned, his bottom lip quivering, and he knew he had her trapped. Her jaw dropped and she immediately wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, I'm so sorry, babe! I forgot how sensitive you were! I didn't mean it!" After a while, he sniffled, trying to continue his charade and get the answer out of her–the answer he wanted to hear so he'd know who he cared the most about…and who cared the most about him.

She pulled back, holding his hands and swinging them back and forth again. "Sweetie, you know I love you, too…but… Er…" She winced, hoping she wasn't going to hurt his feelings again. "Don't you think you should be a little bit more of the man in our relationship? I'd like to feel like the woman every once in a while, too, you know?"

His jaw dropped–not out of hurt, but out of shock. That wasn't the answer he was looking for at all. He blinked, closed his mouth. "Y-Yeah." Smiled. "Of course, babe. I'll try and be more of a man for you…"

Wendy giggled and glanced over to where Bebe was waiting for her, on the other side of the cafeteria. "Oh, Stan… You're so adorable." He smiled, until she finished the conversation and walked away curtly. "Don't try, okay? Just do it."

He heard snickers and a low voice shush the other, so he turned around and saw…who else? Those damn Goth kids. He glared and Thorne nodded his head, giving him a thumbs-up. "Smooth, Raven." Peter giggled and leaned over, whispering something to his older friend.

Stan glared. "At least I'm good enough for people like her! Jesus, step off your fucking pedestals and try to have a meaningful relationship, dumbasses!"

Thorne raised his eyebrows and held up his hands in a mild surrender. "Alright, chill. We should have known you'd respond like that…" Stan rolled his eyes and turned around. As he was walking away, the littlest Goth spoke.

"Give her back…"

Stan spun around and looked at them. Peter was frowning, and he actually looked as if he were on the verge of tears. Stan just stared at him, eyes slightly wide. "I…I didn't…take her from you two…"

Thorne glared. "He didn't mean that Wendy bitch, retard."

Stan narrowed his eyes, suddenly angry at how blind they were, and flipped them off. "Neither did I." And with that, he stormed away, leaving them to futilely wait for her return. Life was a fucking bitch. It didn't look like Henrietta was winning them over at all.

––––––––––––

When Stan got home after school, he stared up at his ceiling for about an hour or more. After much deliberation, he decided it would be easier to sort out his thoughts in the form of a list…as girly as list-making was.

He picked up a pen off his desk and grabbed a loose sheet of notebook paper lying around, set to writing. He first wrote out all the things he liked about Kyle, put them all in a column: funny; awesome Jew-fro; really smart; good at math; "sticks up for what he believes in"; "he cares about me"; "sticks up for me against Shelley"; "makes me laugh"; nice ass; and "cheers me up when I feel like shit".

But something happened when he reached Wendy. What Kyle had said affected him. His mind went blank after "pretty", and he couldn't think of anything else. Absolutely nothing else. What was there to like about Wendy? She was really pretty, and she…

She…

Well, she did– No…that was Kyle again…

As this realization slowly began to sink in, it became more and more obvious that there were absolutely no reasons why he liked Wendy other than the fact that she was pretty, and that was incredibly shallow. Not only that, but Wendy would break up with him and date someone else, then when they dumped her she'd come crawling back to him.

Not only was their relationship shallow, but it was unhealthy, too.

He took a deep breath and folded up the paper, grabbed the portrait of him and Kyle off his bedside dresser. He took out the back and stared at the words written on the back of the picture.

"Oh Stan! If only Wendy knew!"

He grimaced and placed the paper over it, closed it back up, daintily, and put the picture back in its place. He sat there for a moment longer before climbing into bed and hiding himself.

Screw Wendy; what if Kyle found out? He'd never talk to him again!