Kyle glanced to his watch; he had been there for almost seven hours and he thought about what Stan might be doing. He was surrounded by Professor David Avinash's closest and most prestigious colleagues, all raving and ranting about the past hours; it was almost all centered on picking apart Kyle's brain. They teased him with hundreds of questions ranging from literature at the start of Gilgamesh to the end of the most recent presidency. He hadn't failed to answer even one question. After just falling short of proving the Big Bang theory, Professor Avinash called another suited man to keep him as a witness. Soon after, more and more men arrived. Only two women were there while there were five men. Kyle was smiling and nodding at one of the men shaking his hand when he felt a vibration in his pocket. The man turned away for a moment, answering the call of his name; in that time Kyle reached into his jeans, pulling out his phone and flipping it open,

Text Received at: 2:46 P.M.

From: Dr. S. T. Slim

Dude wtf r u? how did it go?

Kyle shut his phone, ignoring the message to look back to the group of people. He shook a lot of hands, memorized a lot of faces and names and impressed plenty of people, but the most significant moment was the one that followed the text message. He looked to the door to see his forlorn English teacher. He jet to the door and had to stop himself from hugging her, thinking it may appear inappropriate. He was grinning from ear to ear,

"Bernadette! I didn't know you'd be coming today!"

She smiled to him, "Of course I'd be here, Kyle. I sent you here, it'd be rude of me to just leave you to these wolves. She was greeted by everyone and Kyle was swelling with pride to be walking beside her. She ran a hand through her silky auburn hair and immediately came up to Professor Avinash,

"Well?"

He looked to her, crossing his arms,

"You were right,"

She smirked, "Yeah, I know. So what do we do?"

He sighed, rubbing at the side of his five o'clock shadow,

"Depends on what he's ready for and if he wants anything to do with it,"

He looked straight at Kyle, making the boy's heart thump in suspense,

"Hopefully we won't have a Good Will Hunting case and you'll be willing to pursue the future we can mold for you,"

He nodded fervently, "Oh, of course, absolutely, I-I, uhm, if you or anyone or if I can, if it's, uhm, if I can manage something spectacular, I-I want to…"

The man laughed, slapping a friendly hand onto his lanky shoulder,

"For such an intelligent young man, he isn't very articulate,"

Bernadette smiled at Kyle who was officially tall enough to look her straight in the eyes,

"It'll grow on him soon enough. He's a quick learner. I'm sure you were able to figure that out, though,"

He nodded, "I'm looking forward to all installments ahead,"

Stan was pacing around the front of the vacant room of two-hundred and three, waiting for the Goddess of South Park High to enter and bestow some great truth on him. He had texted Kyle earlier, but he uncharacteristically did not respond. He reasoned that Kyle must have shut his phone off during the interview, as that would be the only rational reason Kyle wouldn't reply to Stan. In situations such as those, Stan was reminded of how important it was to him to impress Kyle. He always wanted to be Kyle's hero, he always wanted Kyle to feel protected by him. Stan's heart rate went down, his nerves warming and his smile spreading on him like butter on hot pancakes; stupid, but it was how it felt. He closed his eyes and thought back to a January two years prior…

"Stan! Stan!"

He turned to see his best friend, so handsome and glowing, but sweaty from track. He grinned,

"What's up, Kye?"

"I passed the entrance exam for the Advanced classes!"

Stan hugged him despite his damp and heated coat of perspiration,

"That's great, dude, I knew you would,"

He felt the boy smile against his neck, his thick lips moving against his flesh making a chill run up his spine. It was pleasurable, but frightening.

"I'm almost done with practice, will you stay?"

"Uhm, yeah, sure,"

Stan was dragged to the back of the school by his wrist and Kyle seated him on the silver benches. He was beaming so cutely, his dexterous hands practically twitching with all his excitement; Stan couldn't help but chuckle at the boy. He really was cute sometimes. He spent that afternoon watching his best friend leap and run like a speeding bullet, a stupid grin plastered on his face and his body dripping with well-earned beads of sweat, still glowing with the magical aura of perfection Kyle Broflovski had been born with. So perfect. So wonderful in every way.

When practice broke, Kyle refused to shower in the locker rooms or even change, he just grabbed his bag and wanted nothing more than to rush home and play video games with Stan. Stan couldn't have been happier. Kyle talked his ear off the whole way to his house, walking backwards and talking with his hands; occasionally getting a hearty laugh out of Stan by stumbling on an erect slab of cement from behind. He didn't mind it, though, he just kept talking and laughing and showing off his pearly teeth. If Stan had his way, every day would have been just like that. Kyle would have no way of expressing his utterly blissful happiness except by practically regurgitating sunshine while Stan would tag along and share in it by basking in the glow of him. Nothing made him happier. That was a Friday, so Stan ended up sleeping over. After hours of Smash Brothers, Kyle baking chocolate chip cookies (melty and messy, just the way he knew Stan loved them) they collapsed onto Kyle's bed with exhausted sighs. Stan folded his arms under his head as Kyle perched his cheek into his palm and leaned on his elbow, facing him by flipping onto his side.

"I'm so glad I've got you,"

Stan flustered slightly, "T-thanks, dude…uhm…why?"

The redhead smiled adorably, "I just know that no one could ever get me like you do. No one could put up with me and how crazy I am, you know?"

"Really? That's what I love about you,"

They both blushed furiously, not a moment of silence passing before Stan corrected,

"I-I mean, it's what I like about you, not uhm…uh…"

Kyle's emerald eyes were still wide, his face had lifted off his hand in shock, his eyebrows were still arched; Stan felt the heat crawling up his face,

"U-uhm, w-what do you like about me?"

Stan started screaming in his head about how stupid it was to ask another boy that question, how gay and idiotic he must have sounded, but he was in a panic. It was the first thing that came to his mind to fill the gap of silence before it got awkward and eerie. Kyle's features calmed, he fell back into his hand, his muscles relaxed as did his brows and he murmured,

"Everything,"

Stan couldn't recall everything that happened after that. He didn't know exactly how they got back to laughing and joking, but eventually they were getting into bed. When they were, they talked and talked until the wee hours. Soon enough, though, it fell into a sleep quiet and Stan's lids began to close. It was then that Kyle turned over onto him, curling up next to him, his head resting on Stan's shoulder as he muttered sleepily,

"Don't,"

"Huh?"

"Go to sleep…"

"…okay…"

"No, no…like…don't go…to sleep…"

It took every fiber in Stan's body to half-open his left eye, the beautiful indigo shining in the darkness of the room,

"Why?"

"I want you to be here…when I fall asleep…just be here…"

"Dude, I'm tired…"

"Stay awake…for me…"

Stan's heart skipped a beat, instinct taking over and mandating his body; his face cuddled into Kyle's satin mane and he whispered,

"Okay,"

"Thank you, Stan…"

The next utterance had warped Stan into the person he was. The next sentence that mindlessly escaped his friend would mold every corner and curve of his personality and destiny. After feeling Kyle's face heat up against his collarbone, after feeling Kyle nuzzle into the crook of his neck he finished,

"…you always make me feel…so protected,"

Stan wrapped a strong arm around Kyle's frame from under him, feeling the boy snuggle closer and in that moment no one else was there. Not in the house, not in the town, not in the world. There was one spot light and it was on him and Kyle and the rest of the world fell away. There were no feelings but those that Kyle created against Stan's flesh, there were no sounds but those escaping Kyle's sleeping sighs, there were no words but those that Kyle so selflessly blessed Stan's ears with. There was only Kyle and him and nothing else mattered. And he couldn't have been happier.

"Stan?"

Stan sharply turned around to face the door; through the windows the light was hitting on Wendy Testaburger. It kind of made her glow; the dust could be seen floating around, but it wasn't ugly. It made everything feel empty.

"Y-yeah, uhm…Kenny said you wanted to see me…"

She nodded, closing the door behind her as she walked all the way in. She was holding to one of her upper-arms, responding lightly,

"I wanted to talk to you. You see…I, uhm…I hate to say this, but I don't think your friends fit you,"

Stan tilted his head, "What do you mean?"

"I mean they're not like you; you're really cool. You're on the football team, you're smart, you're hot…"

Stan blushed furiously, his heart pounding away in his ribs, "I-I…uhm, I guess you're right…"

She smiled, her arm falling away in greater confidence,

"I know it might come as a shock or whatever, but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to sit with me and my friends at lunch tomorrow and stuff…"

He bobbed his head violently, "Y-yeah, y-yeah, definitely, sure, yeah…"

Her smile grew as she tucked some raven hair behind her pierced ear, "Great…we'll catch you tomorrow, then,"

When she left, Stan hadn't a clue to what he had done in saying those few stammered responses. Though they were small and unintentional, Stanley Marsh had signed a contract with the Devil, promising his soul to the clique of the Goddess Wendy Testaburger.