Sapphires and Morning Glory
Quidnunc
Disclaimer: Not mine. Would I be me if it was? Nah.
Summary: Someone wants to know something.
-.-
Quidnunc • noun
A person who seeks to know all the latest news or gossip busybody
-.-
Stan was startled by the excited knocks upon his door. He got up and walked over to answer it, pulling it open to reveal an excited Kenny.
"Dude!" the other blonde in Stan's life said, pushing his way into the room. "You've gotta tell me about this new boy I've seen you with. You look like you're a million miles away, even when you're in the most animated discussions with him. Who is he?"
"His name's Ryan," Stan said, and his eyes glazed over. "He's fucking adorable…he looks kinda like an angel, my own private little angel. He's a genius with fashion, but it's not his major. His eyes are the bluest eyes I've ever seen…kinda like an ocean-blue, not really sapphiric like mine, and they match wonderfully with his blonde hair and beautiful face…" he gushed, and Kenny noticed a bit of, erm, activity as he spoke of Ryan.
"Wait, hold on…I think I know him from somewhere," Kenny interrupted. "He orders only venti mocha frappuchinos with hazelnut, vanilla, and extra cream, right?"
"Yeah…" Stan answered, slightly confused as to both how Kenny knew this and why his friend was whipping out his phone.
"Dude, Neil! It's that Ryan! Yeah, yeah, the one Jones gushes over. Mr. Venti mocha frappuchinos with hazelnut, vanilla, and extra cream. He's hooked up with Stan!"
"Kenny!" Stan objected.
"I gotta go!" his friend said, hanging up and dragging Stan to his bed. "So? So? What do you two do?"
"I – er, nothing," Stan said. "Just talk."
"JUST talk?" Kenny asked, like it was an affront against God to take relationships slow. Well, for Kenny, it probably was.
"Yes, just talk," Stan said, irritated. "We're both pretty fragile right now, we don't want to do something we might regret later."
"Do you want to do anything more?" Kenny asked, ready to slap Stan should the other answer incorrectly.
"I guess," Stan said. "He's gorgeous though…too perfect to touch, really."
"Stan?" Kenny asked.
"I mean…he looks delicate. I don't wanna hurt him."
"Stan, how could you possibly hurt him?"
"I dunno…touch him wrong, or something…"
"Dude, Ryan's anything but delicate. He once beat up a guy in class for calling some of his writing gay. He can handle himself."
"He DID!?" Stan asked, astonished.
"Dude…you look really happy with him. I think that if the two of you talk it out and decide you want to try something more than just holding hands in Starbucks, you should go for it."
"Says the horniest man on campus."
"Says your friend."
"I hate you sometimes, Kenny."
"I know. Catch ya later, Stan. I'll leave you to your Ryany fantasies." And with that, Kenny was out the door before Stan could retort. Leaning back on his bed and gazing toward the closing door, Stan noticed that he was DEFINITELY in a situation that "Ryany fantasies" would definitely be of use. He proceeded to indulge himself like a chocolate addict who lost their strength when the dessert cart rolled around.
-.-
Notes: Ooh…onleh 10 days left in this tale!
Phoenix II