See! I told you I'd update soon! Hope you all like the new chapter! I'll be back soon with another! Thank you to all readers, reviewers and adders!!

Stan was waiting in the field, anxious to see Kyle and find out what it was he was so excited over. Stan didn't care to reply to text messages when he was outside of school; there was no danger in that. Stan was one to do things only when it was conveniently inappropriate. He knew Kyle wouldn't mind, though, because, frankly, Kyle forgave him for everything. Not only that, but they met in the middle of the football field every single day directly after school, so there was really no point in replying by phone as they would see each other in person only minutes later. He turned to his right slightly to see Kyle at the gate entering the field, he dropped his bag and to Stan's surprise, came charging. It was so out of character for him and so uncalled for, that Stan couldn't find the sense to move and it resulted in a lovely collision; Kyle going at thirty, maybe forty miles per second. The redhead was hanging from him, his legs around Stan's waist and arms wrapped around his face, holding him to his pounding chest as he laughed childishly. It wasn't long before Stan lost his balance and fell onto his back with a groan; the snow on the ground sizzling at the heat of his face when he turned his cheek to look at Kyle. He was still laughing, but choked out,

"W-what the fuck, dude? You were s-supposed to c-catch me!"

Stan smirked, leaning over and lifting Kyle's shirt and jacket to reveal his tiny waist; he slid his hands underneath and allowed his fingers to dance along his weakest muscles, forcing the helpless boy to shriek in laughter. Now, a Tickle Fight wasn't entirely manly, no, not exactly, but that was something special between Stan and Kyle. And it was something that all of South Park had grown to know and appreciate, even admire. Stan and Kyle were always gentle with each other, always honest and never insulted each other unless they really meant it. Stan would "horse around" and play "rough" with his football friends and he saved his more considerate, his more tender, his softer side for Kyle. Never insulted, never angry and never misunderstood; even their parents wanted their relationship. As the fight escalated Kyle's legs started thrashing, his head bent back with his face glowing crimson; Stan resolved to straddle him to calm his kicking and fought off, as best he could, Kyle's dexterous and defensive hands.

Kyle's left hand grabbed to Stan's thigh and squeezed like a ring, hitting Stan's most vulnerable tickle-spot; while Kyle was in the eye of the storm he switched positions and dominated the situation. He attacked under Stan's arms, by his neck, under his knees and his stomach. Stan, although he was not as agile and fast as Kyle, was stronger. It wasn't long before Stan reclaimed his crown and tortured his best friend; his satin curls were revealed, his hat having rolled off ten feet away where their battle began. Tears were forming in his eyes, his smile was as wide as Stan had ever seen it and his face seemed even more beautiful from last he saw it, an hour before. Behind a fog of laughter Kyle managed to beg,

"S-Stan! S-S-Stan! Stan! St-St-Stop! P-P-Please! Stan!"

He did not pull back his attack, but slowed a little…

"Stan…"

"Stan!" He cried, his back arching.

Stan's hands pulled from his sides, across his stomach and met by his bellybutton. Stan watched him slowly calm down, heaving to catch his breath…

"…kiss me."

Stan's eyes lowered, his breath catching up with him as he lowered himself very gradually. His fingers spread across the boy's abdomen, his own legs stretching a little further over Kyle's waist as he neared closer and closer. He was not a centimeter from the boy's lips when his shock-green eyes opened to him and stared in bewilderment. Stan snapped out of his daze, more or less dropping his head onto Kyle's. The freckled boy cleared his throat,

"What are you doing, Stan?"

"I was…" He looked to Kyle; their foreheads resting together, their hair mixing and breath-clouds colliding and wrapping around each other…

"You were…?"

"Checking…for a fever."

"Why?"

"Your face is all red."

Kyle laughed, "That's because you took no mercy on me, asshole."

Stan sat up straight, shaking off the strange sensations crawling up and down his body,

"You don't deserve any. What the fuck are you so happy about?"

Kyle was beaming; he always glowed when he was excited, that smile was one in a million.

"State Supervisors came to see me, Mrs. Barnes has been talking about me to all these high-up people and told them she thinks I have potential to be…a, well, to be a prodigy. She thinks I'm a genius. They want to test me and…well, I'm not sure what they want to do, but they said that if it turns out I am, my future is gonna…shit, Stan, my life is gonna be fuckin' taken care of!"

Stan chuckled as Kyle leaned up on his elbows,

"That's what you're so freaked up over?"

"Stan, don't you understand?" Kyle grabbed Stan's collar, initiating tickling pink to fill Stan's cheeks as he closed in tightly and insisted, "Stan, this means all those nights I gave up parties and hanging out with friends to study, all those perfect hundreds and straight A's and AP classes, it means it was all really worth it! It means my hard work can take me away now!"

Stan frowned, "Take you away? You want to leave?"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Stan!? Of course I wanna get out of South Park! I promised myself I wouldn't live here the rest of my fucking life! Of course I wanna leave!"

"And me?" Stan interrogated.

Kyle backed away a little, loosening his hold on Stan's shirt, "What about you?"

"You'd be okay with just…leaving? I mean, I'd be all alone without you, dude."

The redhead grinned, shaking his head before he responded softly, "You idiot, I'd take you with me, of course."

Stan's eyes widened, "What?"

"Of course, Stan. I'd never leave you alone here. Stan, I promised that when you fell, I fell with you. That doesn't mean that when I rise you stay down. You come up with me. Wherever they take me or send me to, you're coming with me."

Stan blushed, dropping eye-contact momentarily before inquiring, "What if they say I can't go?"

"Then I'm not going anywhere."

Stan looked back at the boy wrapped up in him, "Really?"

"Really."

"Shit, Kye…"

"What?"

"You're just fucking amazing."

Kyle laughed, "Well, I'm not an AVERAGE best friend, am I?"

Stan shook his head, a grin spreading on his face, "No, you're not."

"Go on, tell me what I am."

Stan laughed, "A Super Best Friend."

"Exactly, and what does that make me?"

Dumbfounded at first, Stan was hesitant to answer. The correct response, however, did find him,

"A Soul Ninja."

"Which means?" Kyle pressed.

"You're right no matter what you say."

Kyle patted Stan's head, "Exactly."

They chuckled together; their breathes meshing between their inch of separation. Like some kind of spell, they both calmed at exactly the same moment and found their reflections in the other's gaze. Kyle was bolted in his position, unable to do anything but cherish his friend's proximity and gorgeous stare. Stan opened his mouth, unsure of what was going to come out, but that responsibility was taken off of his shoulders when a familiar blonde's voice called out from down the field,

"Looks like you two are getting along!"

Stan scrambled off of Kyle, brushing himself off as his heart rate tried to reset. Kenny approached the two, now standing and interviewed,

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"No." Stan growled.

Kenny put his hands up in surrender, "Alright, don't bite my head off. You guys going to Cartman's party tonight?"

Stan smirked, "Yeah, I was invited and I told him I'd show up with the whole football team to glorify his miniscule talent in football to all the hot girls. He wanted us to tell them that he was an amazing athlete, but it was too violent of a sport and he found Jesus instead or some crap. I'm not going."

Kenny nodded, "Yeah. You, Kyle?"

The freckled boy sighed, "You know how it is, Cartman doesn't invite me anywhere. Much less in his house. Imagine I stepped in and breathed his air? His stupid, fat lungs need it more than me."

The blonde made a disturbed expression, "Your hatred is always so palpable."

"Good, hopefully he'll choke on it."

Kenny laughed, "Ow, okay, can I steal Stan for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure."

Stan walked a few feet away with Kenny's arm wrapped over his shoulder as Kyle went in the opposite direction to retrieve his hat and get his bag by the gate. Kenny had a devious countenance,

"I'm here to pass a message onto you, Stan."

"From?"

"Wendy."

The world stopped.

Stan's brows pressed, "Y-yeah? What did she say?"

"She says she wants you to meet her after school on Monday. In room two-oh-three."

Stan looked incredulously at the blonde, "R-really? She wants to meet with me? She told you to tell me she wanted to meet with me?"

"Yeah, retard. Just don't forget. Straight after school, Monday, room two-oh-three. Be there. She's not popular for being forgiving or giving second chances."

"Yeah? What's she popular for?"

Kenny thought for a moment, then answered, "For giving the entire Debate Team herpes."

"Ew."

Kenny nodded, "Yeah. Well, you don't get famous being cute. You get famous by giving head, getting naked and having money. Money gets you the power over the brains of the people and the sex gets you the bodies of the people; it's how everyone does it."

"That's horrifying."

"You say everything I say is horrifying."

"That's because everything you say is horrifying."

Kenny shrugged, dropping his arm and tucking it under his backpack strap, "Whatever. I've got a date, so I'll talk to you later."

With that he turned and left, waving to Kyle before departing completely. Once he vanished from view, Stan turned to look at Kyle. He had his hat back on, his clothes realigned and his bag sitting on his waist. He smiled,

"Can I know?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't tell Kyle, kay?"

Stan's hands suddenly felt twitchy and restless, "Uhm…it was just something stupid, you don't care, trust me."

The redhead dipped his face to one side, "What? What is it? Why can't I know?"

"No, it's not that you can't, it's just that you wouldn't care about it. Kenny just…wanted the homework to copy on Sunday. That's all."

"Oh." Kyle stated.

"Yeah, you see? I told you it was stupid."

"Well…okay. You wanna head to your house now?"

Stan hummed in agreement, and when conversation picked up again, his worries washed away. The lulling tranquility that Kyle's smooth voice provided always calmed him; like the waves of the ocean crashing onto the Earth with such serenity, the way nature's course could calm the human heart to such a state of lucidity…that was the effect of Kyle's silk voice. He would say anything to keep Kyle talking to him, and life was wonderful because he knew Kyle would never leave. He could forever listen to Kyle talk and remain in that profound placidity that kept his world together. Because Kyle would never allow Stan to find himself alone; that was certain. They were both mature enough to know they didn't need to insult each other unless they meant what they said, they were both honest and loyal enough to know they didn't need to lie or hide from each other and they were both caring enough to know they didn't need to wrestle and fight to show weird, masculine fondness. That would be all the necessities of an average friendship, and Stan and Kyle's was anything but.