Kyle stood under the hot water feeling his warm, water-glossed lips as if it were for the very first time. Steam filled the small, glass and tiled cubical as he rested his back against the dreadfully freezing wall. He wished he could see a sunrise, watch a flower bloom, beckon the sea onto the shore; anything to escape from his current, rushed thoughts. He let his hand fall from his lips and examined his hands and came to the conclusion; he really did have very dainty hands. Maybe that was another reason Stan had thought Kyle looked so much like a girl. Kyle blushed furiously as he imagined Stan's serious expression looking down at him against Stan's chest. Kyle hoped he only flustered due to the heat.
His heart was still racing with noisy bangs in his ears; what had just happened? Stan had…had…kissed him? Yes, Kyle believed that was what happened. Stan had kissed him.
"I want to see…if I may pursue you…"
Remembering the short phrase proved to only redden Kyle further. He sank against the wall, his curls clinging to the fogged tiles. He was seated in the tub, the hot water falling and running down him. Why…why had Stan kissed him? What…what should he do? Stan told him that he was confused when it came to Kyle. How was Kyle supposed to interpret that? When Kyle remembered Stan's slides of dark, raven hair running through his fingers like satin caramel; recalled the breath-taking, lightening turquoise shade of Stan's bedroom eyes following his own; recollected Stan's strong arms wrapping around his frail, usually ill and weak body, desperately pulling him into a timid, unsure kiss it made his heart pound even louder.
Kyle placed his self-proclaimed "dainty" hand over his fast-paced heart to perhaps see if his heart was trying to tell him the right thing to do in Morse Code. He failed to understand it. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall and tried to think clearly, but it was fogged. He did not know if it was fogged with steam or Stan, but either way it left him confused and alone. Kyle's eyes then snapped open, his head jerked forward in shock as he gasped…
Does…does this mean…I'm losing him?
Kyle felt alone, for the first time since…since…Kyle couldn't remember when. Maybe when Stan went emo, but it wasn't the same loneliness. It wasn't like this. Kyle stood, or rather sat in this house as if it were empty. His life was empty, he was left with nothing but the short memories his brain could gather of his best friend. Why? Simple. Stan had kissed him. A simple gesture, incredibly simple in fact. So simple that all it takes is one person to lean just close enough to another person to have their lips meet. That one simple gesture had taken their bond of friendship—brotherhood--and shot it out into space, ripping it apart and throwing it in all different directions. It took all Kyle had ever known and throw it out into the never-ending sea of stars and black to leave him dazed and alone. Completely alone.
For he stood now with his dignity. He was alone, not because Stan kissed him, but because of the kiss's effect. That now he had to make a decision and no one could help him. No one could sit down and tell him "this is right" and "this is wrong"; there was no one to ensure him that everything would be okay. Because there was no promising that. His best friend had just kissed him, leading Kyle to believe that they were more than just friends. Alone he must make the decision…what did that mean to him? Did it mean to exit the shower immediately and run into Stan's surely welcoming arms? Did it mean he should try to drown himself here and now? Maybe he should get out and hide in his room the next three days? What was he supposed to do?
He collected his knees closer to himself, hiding his chin in them. He watched a single drop of water run down the glass, sliding door and felt more solitary than he ever had.
Stan stood downstairs; he hadn't moved from the place Kyle had left him. His arms hung loosely by his sides. He wondered if Kyle's heart ached as much as his did. Why had he kissed Kyle?! Why?! He wasn't gay! He wasn't! Not if this was the result! If Kyle feared him; feared speaking to him, ran from him then he couldn't ever! Not that he ever was or ever planned on it! He loved Wendy! He loved her and that was all he needed! He loved her and that was the only person on the face of this whole, wide world who could ever mean love to him! It had been love at first sight, for years he had never doubted that. There was no turning back now. Not now. He didn't love Kyle. He didn't love Kyle. What had even made Kyle so radiant these past few months? What had changed between them so drastically?
Nothing. Nothing had changed, so had Stan felt this way all along? Had Stan never known? Was this…was this him? The real him? No. He didn't love Kyle. He couldn't love Kyle. If he ever loved Kyle…Kyle would run from him. Kyle would leave him alone…and he couldn't go on without Kyle. He could never take another breath if Kyle wasn't taking one right alongside him. It just wouldn't be the same. He could never buy another candy; it just wouldn't be as sweet. He couldn't dress in another jacket; it just wouldn't be as warm. He couldn't ever kiss Wendy again; it wouldn't be the same love. He couldn't go on…he needed Kyle…but why? Stan stopped his train of thoughts, then. For he feared that if he continued to answer his own questions that he would find a most disturbing conclusion. He didn't want to find the answer if that was it. He didn't want to be his real self if it meant giving Kyle up.
This wasn't peer pressure, it wasn't giving into the crowd; if Stan were…"that way"…for Kyle…it wouldn't matter what others thought. Not to Stan, it wouldn't. But clearly it meant so much more to Kyle and Stan could never change that. He didn't want to either. Because he didn't love Kyle. He couldn't love Kyle. He wouldn't. He slowly sank and sat down on the floor, boarding his chin up in his knees and wondered why his heart felt like it was breaking.
