Close Enough to Burn
byicypinkpop
Pairing: Kyle/Stan (Style)
Disclaimer: All character and series credit to the geniuses that are Matt Stone and Trey Parker.
Warnings: Angst, sap, gayness, straightness, and teenagers being teenagers.
Chapter 11 (next) will be the last chapter!
~0~
Falling head-first into a mad crush on your best friend wasn't everything the movies made it out to be.
In retrospect, Stan hadn't anticipated that this would be simple or easy. Over the past few months, his and Kyle's relationship had become increasingly strained and confusing. The boiling point, as it were, had turned out to be his and Kyle's confrontation after Stan had run away from home.
At the moment, Stan was laying wide-eyed on Kyle's bedroom floor. His best friend had, as far as he could tell, already fallen asleep on the bed. Stan had never had any problems sharing a bed with Kyle, back when they were friends…
Were they still friends, or something else?
Kyle's confession had been shocking. It was one thing to engage in the "no-homo" type of joking conversation with somebody like Kenny, who was known for being over the top and a flirt, but Kyle had never been particularly outspoken about that kind of thing. Stan vaguely remembered when Kyle had tried to take that homeschool girl to their school dance way back in elementary school, but aside from that, Kyle usually didn't remark on people he found attractive.
Did Kyle find him attractive? Stan's stomach squirmed. No. He shouldn't be rethinking Kyle's sexuality for the millionth time… He needed to be thinking about his own.
Was he bi?
Stan had never felt this way about other guys. He had never eyed up guys in the locker room, or thought about kissing guys. He had never done anything that had ever made him question his sexuality. Knowing that Kyle felt this way made him wonder, though. Was it possible that Kyle wasn't really into guys, either, until...until Stan? Was Stan the first person that had made him consider being with a guy?
He vaguely recalled the awkward conversation they had had that time they went out for sundaes at Ihop, curling in on himself. He wasn't embarrassed, necessarily, to think people might consider him "gay", or whatever. It was just…that he and Kyle were friends. Best friends. Best friends didn't just turn around and start holding hands and kissing, or whatever two guys in a relationship did.
Stan felt his back begin to itch against the carpet. It was too much. Kyle was up there, after they had just confessed to liking one another…And Stan hadn't even known he felt that way until the words fell out of his own mouth. Would things ever be the same again? Would Kyle ever take him for a ride in the Saturn? Would they be able to play videogames without shrinking away at every accidental touch of their legs on the rug?
He had to get out of here. Stan suddenly remembered why he had run away in the first place. His parents had sprung the divorce information on him at the worst time; he didn't know if he could deal with this Kyle issue and his parents' issues at the same time. Slowly, his blue eyes swept up to the mattress, staring at the red curls that peeked over the edge, the way Kyle's body shifted with each sleeping breath.
He found himself smiling a little. Kyle was still Kyle, after all. Were they official? Stan wished he had a clue to where these feelings had come from. As nervous as he was about trying to make this work…Well, he held out some hope they would figure it out. Maybe.
Somehow, he managed to fall asleep with the carpet against the side of his face.
Summer was turning into fall, and the sidewalks were littered with leaves. After spending the weekend hanging out normally, as he and Kyle had always done, he had decided to face his fears and head home. Thankfully, Ms. Broflovski hadn't bothered peeking into Kyle's room over the past couple of days, and thus Stan was pretty sure his parents hadn't been alerted to his location.
He carried his bookbag stuffed with dirty clothes over one shoulder as he made his way down the roadside, catching a glimpse of his front door from far away. He made his way up and, taking a deep breath, knocked. His mother's brown eyes went from dull to bright within moments, peering up at him through the crack in the door.
Through the overwhelming onslaught of hugs and kisses, Stan noted that the house looked mostly the same as it had before. His mom and dad were both there, living together, clearly not having finalized any move-out plans yet. Amongst the embraces, he did his best to stutter out some kind of explanation or his absence; that he had been staying at Kenny's, and that he had been upset…but, surprisingly, they didn't push him much. His mother just continued to hug him, keeping him close in her arms and sobbing with relief.
If they were still separating… Stan started to wonder. Why were they still here together?
"Uh, Dad," he began again, freezing when he heard the buzz of the doorbell. Sharon turned around and went immediately to the door, pulling it open and looking up at the tall and skinny redhead whose bedroom Stan had left about an hour before.
"Kyle! Stanley, your friend Kyle is here!" she called, eyes still wet and a smile on her face as she looked over. "Kyle, Stanley is back!"
Stan felt his heart swell when Kyle, perfect as always, opened his eyes wide and gave the best impression of a shocked best friend Stan could have asked for.
"Wow, really?! Stan, you're okay, man! Where the hell were you?!"
Stan smiled, tilting his head down in the hopes that he wouldn't ruin Kyle's performance. He ran over to his friend and hugged him, recalling how he had looked in his sleep last night and feeling a tingling in his fingertips. He was pretty sure his parents would ground him, once they came to their senses, but he could smell something cooking in the kitchen, so he was pretty sure food could come first.
After eating with Kyle and his parents and managing to excuse himself to put his bag away, he walked into the bedroom and threw his things down, eyeing his bed. He hadn't been there in a while. It looked just how he had left it; half-made and a mess.
Footsteps sounded out behind him and he turned around, surprised to see his best friend there in the doorway. "Thanks," he blurted out without thinking, pausing and then feeling the relief in his shoulders when Kyle smiled in a mute 'no problem'.
"Uh…" Stan was just now realizing that he didn't know where to go from here. He and Kyle had said all sorts of things to each other the night before, so…Weren't things really different, now?
"Hey," Kyle interrupted instead, pulling the green hat off his head and tossing it to the side, as he usually did. "Your parents are going to want more answers, y'know."
Stan gulped, nodding. It was true. He wanted to know about his parents' divorce status and all that stuff, but to be honest, it was already getting kind of late and he didn't want to deal with that today. He was glad it was a weekend, because both he and Kyle had slept past 2 PM.
"Yeah."
"Wanna go to Walmart and get school supplies? We have to go back next week."
That sent a chill down Stan's spine like nothing else. What? School? Already?
"…Yeah, I guess."
Kyle smiled a little. "Let's hope nobody recognizes you from the fliers they keep putting around town."
Stan elected not to wear his hat. He made his way out into the hall and paused, seeing his mom and dad there near the door and taking a deep breath. He had already explained himself somewhat over dinner, but…He knew there was more talking to be done.
"I'm going out with Kyle for a little bit," he said quietly, biting his lip. "I'll, uh…I'll be back before dark and we can talk, okay?"
Thankfully, his parents didn't stop them, and Stan was again grateful for Kyle's influence in his life.
~0~
It didn't take long for everybody at school to act like nothing weird had happened over the summer.
Stan settled into senior year with messy class notes and unbrushed hair. Maybe, after all the commotion and confusion that summer, his brain was ready for a break. Kyle was there too, of course, as were Kenny and the rest of their typical classmates. Things actually felt almost normal to Stan for the first time in a long time…
If it weren't for the little detail that he and Kyle were (kinda sorta) still dating.
Stan wasn't even sure he should think of it as dating. Hell, it wasn't like they had told anybody about their weird midnight confession, and they didn't really act any differently with one another ever since it had happened, at least, not that Stan could tell. Actually, their friendship seemed to be better than ever. They still skipped class once in a while to go to Willie's, traded notes and spent nights at each other's houses, just like old times. The biggest difference in their interactions was, honestly, the absence of Kenny.
"I got promoted at work," the blond had told them over lunch one day, a gleam in his eyes. "You're looking at the assistant manager~ I'm treating you guys next time."
How Kenny managed a forty-hour work week and still went to school sometimes, Stan would never understand. However, it did mean he and Kyle ended up hanging out one-on-one a lot more than they had before. Stan wasn't entirely sure if Kyle had ever completely forgiven Kenny for hiding him out at his place over the summer, but, either way, Kenny's absence resulted in a lot more two-person sleepovers and lunch sessions.
Surprisingly, Kyle also had kept his Community College lab job, but only worked on Sundays and Mondays, so was still free a lot of the time. Stan felt a little bit lame for being the only one of their trio that didn't get a paycheck every week, but at least it meant he had more time to brood about his and Kyle's weird…situation.
October rolled around quickly, and, on one Wednesday at lunchtime, Stan jumped slightly when Kyle sat down next to him in the cafeteria.
"Hey. Happy birthday," the redhead stated, unpacking his lunch bag and taking out a plastic container filled with what looked like leftover Chinese food, or something.
Within three seconds, Stan felt like an idiot.
"It's the nineteenth?"
Kyle snorted. "Yeah. You forgot?"
"No…"
"Who forgets their own birthday?"
Stan winced and smiled, rolling his eyes. "I guess I do. I've been studying so hard for that biology test that I kind of…yeah."
"Figures. We should hang out tonight."
Stan raised an eyebrow. He couldn't help but wonder…
"Did you get me a present?"
"No." Kyle was a TERRIBLE liar! Stan stared at him, watching the fake innocence melt away immediately.
"Okay, fine. It's a surprise, though."
Stan felt any tenseness in his shoulders begin to melt away. If Kyle felt weird about their situation, or was still angry, or anything like that, he wouldn't have planned to get him a birthday gift. He wondered if it was a surprise party, like he and Kenny had thrown for Kyle in the spring, but…it was a Thursday night, and he suspected Kyle just had a gift or something simple to hand over.
"Are you throwing me a party? Did you invite a ton of people?"
"Nah. Sorry," Kyle replied, as if he had seen that question coming. "I figured we could do that this weekend or something, if you wanted. Mom sure as hell wouldn't let me host a big party for you at her house, anyway." He paused. "If you want a party, we could do it this weekend?"
Stan considered it. Parties were fun, but honestly, despite being familiar with most of their classmates, a big party didn't particularly appeal to him right now.
"I don't care," he replied eventually, picking at his ham and cheese sandwich. "Don't plan anything expensive, okay? Maybe us and Kenny can just get hammered."
Kyle looked at him weirdly. Stan remembered their last boozed-up night and promptly felt like that was a bad idea.
"Never mind," he decided. Kyle grinned to himself in amusement, sending a weird tingle down Stan's spine.
"I already made plans for tonight. You trust me, right?"
Blue eyes wide, Stan nodded slowly. Of course he did. Before he could open his mouth though, Kyle tossed his empty lunch container into his backpack and stood up, smiling broadly.
"Sweet. Let's meet at Drummel at seven. In front of that shitty fountain."
With that, Kyle was gone and Stan was seriously confused. A birthday party at Drummel? Had Kyle lost it and somehow assumed that Stan wanted some broken beer bottles and Styrofoam soda cups for his eighteenth birthday?
Something about his friend's smile was still burned into his mind. No. A lot of people thought Kyle was a nerd with no concept of what real fun was, but Stan knew better than that. If anybody had the capacity to surprise him lately, it was Kyle. He actually felt a rush of excitement in a…private way, if you could call it that. Who knew what Kyle was thinking?
He couldn't wait for the sun to go down.
~0~
Stan's birthday fell on a Wednesday this year, but that didn't mean he didn't plan on skipping school the next day if he could get away with it. With any luck, he and Kyle could at least stay up late and eat fast food, or something.
These were his thoughts as he trudged down the side of the road in the twilight, cool air reminding his ears and neck of the autumn that had settled. Having a birthday close to Halloween wasn't particularly festive, since the weather tended to be chilly and he usually ended up staying in. He was dressed in his worn black jeans and a blue tank top with the American flag on it, and a darker, navy-blue hoodie to shield his arms and shoulders from the wind. His foot grazed an aluminum can as he met the park's edge, and he sighed, kicking it along until he reached the fountain where the meeting was supposed to take place. There was a flickering, pitiful streetlamp about ten feet above the fountain, so he stood beneath it, watching as his shadow flickered in and out of view on the matted grass beneath.
He was checking his phone for the time when he heard voices. A wavering, soft tone met his ears first and he squinted, peering over towards the direction he had come from and blinking. There were three figures, one whose silhouette he recognized immediately as Kyle's, and two who appeared to be carrying boxes.
"It sure is gettin' dark out here, fellas," was the first sentence he heard clearly, and Stan stepped backwards out of surprise.
"That makes it better!" Kenny's voice rang out as the three approached. Stan took in the view of his friends, Kyle at the side with backpack-like straps over each shoulder, and dressed in blue jeans and a red tank top that matched his hair.
"Ooh fitting, you wore blue." Kenny, also dressed in a blue sweatshirt, smiled widely, and Stan watched as he set down the large cardboard box in his arms. Awkward as ever, Butters, wearing a red parka-type thing, set his box down as well, blond hair wispy and messy over his confused expression.
"…Okay. What the hell?" Stan managed as he looked down into the open boxes, and back up at his three friends. What kind of birthday thing was this? Black, shell-like things gleamed from inside the open boxes, and the click of metal against metal sounded as Stan watched his best friend throw three things down by their straps onto the grass. They looked like-
"…Guns? I-"
"Paintball," Kyle revealed, standing with a hand on his hip and a sharp smile. "Two on two. You and Kenny are blue. Butters and me are red."
Realization settled over Stan's head and shoulders like a warm blanket. Why did he ever doubt Kyle, again?
"Where the hell did you get this stuff?"
Butters actually stepped forward into the light more, revealing just how weird his outfit actually was. Maybe he didn't want to get messy.
"W-well you see, that's…m-my first cousin runs a paintball store up in Denver, a-and so we thought it might be….a heck of a good time, Stan, since you're gonna be eighteen, 'n all."
"We even got helmets so we don't shoot each other's faces off," Kenny replied proudly and reached down to the grass, picking up a gun and tossing it to Stan. Stan caught it awkwardly in his arms, in awe of the situation.
"So…Wait, we're playing in the park?" Stan thought aloud, glancing around. "What if we accidentally shoot an old lady walking her dog, or something?"
"At seven at night?" Kyle inquired. Stan shrugged.
"Old people do weird shit."
"I thought we could play in the woods," the redhead replied, pointing over to the tree line. "We can use the fountain as a home base. I figured we could play 'til eight, meet back up, and see who got shot the worst." Kyle then bent over and checked the gun cartridges, tossing each of them a gun.
"Me and Butters get red paintballs, and you and Kenny get blue. Whichever team looks the most wrecked at eight is the loser and has to buy the other team whatever they want from Taco Bell."
Stan was surprised by the feeling in his chest. Not only did something like this take planning and resources, but it sounded like a hell of a lot of fun, too! Getting to face off against Kyle and his friends in paintball? Hell yeah! His eyes flicked over to Butters, taking in the nervous expression. Maybe Cartman would have been a better choice?
No… Never mind. Cartman would do something diabolical and turn a fun game of paintball into something that sent them to the hospital. Butters and Kenny were dating anyways, so he figured it made sense.
"Here." Stan caught the helmet thrown to him and slid it on over his head, doing up the buckle at the back and looking through the clear visor. Though all their faces were obscured by helmets, he could see the narrowed look in Kyle's green eyes.
Oh, it was on.
"I set a timer," Kyle stated through the helmet, voice muffled as he took out his phone and held it up. "At eight, we all meet back at the fountain." With the air of an expert, his curly-haired friend slung the gun strap over his shoulder, holding it out. Stan could guess what was coming next.
"Three…Two…"
Stan grit his teeth.
"ONE!"
The area was a mad dash of pounding footsteps. Kenny was immediately at his side as they rushed into the woods past the tree line. Kyle and Butters were immediately out of sight. Stan gulped, actually starting to feel the rush of adrenaline pulsing in the backs of his ears. It was his birthday, damn it. He didn't want to pay for everybody else's food!
"Strategy?" he asked in a low whisper, peering through the shadows of the trees and standing beside Kenny.
"Shoot them if you see them," the blond replied seriously. Stan sighed, tension broken for a moment.
"How do we find them, though?" Stan inquired. It was getting pretty dark. He supposed that was the point of having the game in the evening; to be jumping everywhere at normal forest noises and staying on edge for the entire hour.
"…Listen for Butters, probably," Kenny admitted with a soft chuckle, keeping his voice low. "He's not good at being quiet for shit like this. He screams."
Stan vaguely wondered if that was prefacing a perverted remark. Also…
"You're gonna shoot him? You guys should have been on the same team," he whispered in reply. Butters was definitely the most lily-livered of the four of them, and he was dating Kenny, on top of that. Paintballs could hurt. Would Kenny do that?
"Nah. I'm just gonna shoot Kyle up so bad, that both of them will have to lose."
"Kyle's mine." The words were out before Stan could stop them. Blue eyes turned questioningly in his direction, and the moment he detected a gleam of amusement, Stan turned and began to creep away along the woods, keeping his eyes and ears out for movement. That wasn't what he had meant…
It was true, though. He wanted to be the one to take him down, and he knew Kyle felt the same.
The two crept along together, feet lightly crunching on the leaves. Stan vaguely noted in his mind that Kenny, the oldest of their group of three, was already eighteen. However, despite having turned eighteen himself that day, Stan still felt young in comparison. Kenny handled his gun expertly, sneaking around, allowing Stan to follow behind. Maybe it was due to his history at home. Kenny had had to get good at sneaking from an early age, he assumed.
A snap of a branch sounded, and Stan turned on his heel quickly, gun in hand. Kenny shushed him, causing him to glance backwards.
"Oops," he muttered, looking down at the broken twig under his foot amongst the leaves and pine needles. The wind rustled through the trees above, and Stan wondered just how paranoid he had gotten. He did want to win, but the surroundings were almost,,,creepy. It wasn't as though he usually went into the forest at night.
They continued on like this for a few more minutes, peering around the edge of trees and slowly making their way down. It seemed like an unspoken rule not to run too far deep into the woods, even though they could probably find their way out, but Stan knew it wouldn't be any fun if they never ran into each other. He took another step, and a muffled gasp met his ears, sending him spinning around 180 degrees.
The flash of black ducked down behind a tree, and he caught sight of a red sweatshirt arm at the side.
Stan took off running, and Kyle bolted away through the trees. The previously soft crunching of feet against brush became louder as they sprinted, leaping over rocks and hurling themselves around trees. He poised his gun as he chased and shot at the moving red shadow about ten feet in front of him, gun clicking with each squeeze of the trigger.
"C'mere!" he shouted behind the helmet, shooting a couple more times before the figure lost him behind a particularly dense patch of pine trees. He bent at the waist and put his left hand on his knee, catching his breath, hearing the rustling of footsteps catching up behind him. Kenny was catching up-
"FUCK!" he shouted as the sting of a few paintballs plummeted right between his shoulder blades. He turned around fast, looking into the startled eyes of the red-wearing blond boy.
"G-Gotcha," Butters said unsurely, but Stan could hear in his voice that he was smiling.
Maybe he wasn't the wimpy punk Stan had taken him for, after all.
He took off, chasing Butters and shooting a few more times until he was satisfied he had stained the guy with sufficient patters of blue. Narrowly avoiding tripping himself over a dip in the earth, he spotted Kenny waving to him from the right and walked quickly up to him in the darkness, having to squint to be sure of his footsteps. It really was getting dark out…How long had they been running around like this?
"I just saw Kyle," Kenny replied with a whisper, and Stan suddenly noticed the splatters of red over Kenny's blue jacket.
"He got you?" Stan gasped softly, out of breath from all the sprinting. Kenny shook his head.
"I let baby get me. He wanted to hit someone."
"Butters?!" Stan resisted smacking Kenny with the butt of his gun. Butters had hit them both, now? "We have to beat them, asshole!"
"We will," Kenny chuckled under his breath, reaching out and snatching the black-haired boy by the wrist. Stan followed begrudgingly through the trees.
"Kyle was over by the fountain. I think he's waiting for eight o' clock, so we all go back and he can get us before time is up."
"Fuck." That sneaky bastard. Stan never would have thought of a thing like that, but he wouldn't put it past Kyle. That was pretty much a sure victory: save your ammo, wait where you know everyone will be, and then unload.
"We'll give him a surprise, then," he breathed, tiptoeing along. For all he knew, Kyle hadn't even gotten shot once, and that wasn't acceptable. That smug smart jerk was going to get outsmarted by him. It was his birthday, after all! He couldn't LOSE!
They approached the edge of the woods, and Stan suddenly gripped ahold of Kenny's arm, stopping him in his tracks. He could have sworn he saw something through the low light, something moving over on the left, facing the park, about fifteen feet away…
The turn of a head confirmed it, and Stan was gone.
"Motherfucker!" he shouted as he chased after him. Kyle had been waiting to ambush them! He could only hope Butters was lost somewhere as he flung himself over the soil, scrambling, weaving through trees with his gun pointed. He squeezed the trigger over and over, watching as the paintballs shot out, a few directly into the retreating back. Dark blue spattered out as he heard his friend curse.
"Son of a BITCH!"
Stan bounded up and staggered when his friend spun around, startled to be faced with the nose of another gun. They froze about three feet from one another, guns pointed at each other's chests, eyes narrow and chests heaving with breath. Stan hadn't expected a standoff…
Stan and Kyle watched each other silently for a few moments, quiet spreading between them. Stan had no way of knowing how much ammo Kyle had left, and hadn't kept track of how much he himself had used up, either. This…He had to beat him to the punch. Kyle might be smart, smarter than most, but Stan wasn't a total sucker. He'd show Kyle he could beat him in his own game. The green eyes watched him from behind the clear visor, and he felt his breathing falter. This…No, not this feeling. Not the one where Kyle took his breath away, where the sight of those red curls over his eyes and the image of those freckles, unseeable in the low light but present, he was sure, made him squirm and want to reach out and hold the guy…
No, he'd shoot. In three…two…
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
A loud alarm noise startled Stan out of his stupor and he squeezed the trigger, unloading what he suspected was his last ball. Kyle staggered to the side and scrambled as the ball whizzed past his head, reaching for his back pocket. What…
"GAH! Fuck!"
Stan looked up in shock to see Kenny standing behind Kyle, gun in one hand and other hand grasping at his neck. The redhead suddenly yanked off his helmet and held his phone up, swiping the alarm away and sighing.
"Game over! Return to the fountain!"
Stan realized who he'd shot and ran over immediately, eyeing the big splatter of blue pant down the side of Kenny's neck and chest. Shit!
"You okay?!"
"Guh…" Kenny tore his helmet off and let his gun hang over his shoulder, smiling and giving a thumbs up.
"Thanks for shooting your own teammate, asshole. That's gonna bruise."
Stan sighed, glad he couldn't see under the sweatshirt and bandanna.
"What the hell were you standing behind Kyle for?!"
"I was gonna shoot him while you guys were distracted!"
Oh. Stan felt like an idiot. Smiling apologetically, he followed along after Kyle and Butters, who seemed to have found them in the commotion and was returning to the fountain as per the rules.
The four made their way into the park and caught their breath, standing under the flickering fluorescence of the lamp and the light of the stars. Even without talking, the circumstances were pretty damn clear; all of their backs were a complete and utter mess, and most of them had been shot in the front a few times, too, with the exception of stupid Kyle, whose front was miraculously clean.
"You asshole," Stan rasped and stood back up, exhilaration and joy pumping through his entire body as he grinned and tossed the helmet back into the waiting cardboard box. "You waited for us to come back here, didn't you?"
Kyle smirked to himself, scratching the back of his neck and taking the gun off his shoulder. "Maybe."
"We win?" Butters piped up suddenly, eyes wide and face showing his excitement through the low light. Stan winced, realizing he had underestimated the guy. It was like he faked that obliviousness to get the target off his own back.
"Congrats, babe!" Kenny ran over and hugged onto Butters from behind, and Stan turned to look at Kyle, who was watching him with a wide-eyed stare. Stan blinked. What was that about? He remembered their moments a few minutes earlier, staring each other down, each waiting for the next move. Had Kyle felt it, too…?
Or… maybe Kyle was just unsure whether Stan had enjoyed himself?
"That was fucking amazing," Stan replied to the look, watching the relief that swept over his friend's face. As they all took off their gear and threw it back in the boxes, he watched as Kenny and Butters lifted the stuff into their arms.
"We'll drop this shit off at Butters' house," Kenny promised, glancing over to the two friends. "Save us a seat at Taco Bell so I can pay for us all, 'kay? I wanna see how many Cinnabon delights birthday boy can fit in his mouth."
Stan was pretty sure he had the best friends ever.
~0~
The next chapter will be the finale!