"Jesus Kyle, are you okay?!"

Groaning, Kyle pressed his hands over his face, shielding his eyes from the dusky orange glow of the interior car light. He was awkwardly sprawled in the snow, half in, half out the car. Stan was kneeling across the gearstick, his hands braced against the back of the passenger side seat, the spot Kyle had so gracelessly just vacated. Kyle blinked; from this angle, it looked a bit like Stan had a halo. Lit up from behind the back of his head, half hidden by the shadows, half bathed in the car's sickening orange light, he looked a bit like a saint. Or a picture of a saint, at any rate. The kid of saints you find in old art galleries, in churches, carved into the wood, cut into the stained glass windows.

Only the expression was wrong. Stan looked sickly pale, stricken and terrified. In their pictures, saints never looked scared. They always devoted and holy, and always at ease with their fate. No matter what fate awaited them, no matter if they were crying, or smiling, or clasping their hands together, gripping at their heart. Staring heavenwards with wide, overly emotional eyes. No matter if they were about to be beheaded, martyred torn apart with lions, they always looked at ease, and absolutely accepting. Stan looked everything but at ease and accepting. He looked ill, and bona fide terrified.

"Kyle?!"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine. Luckily there's a shitload of ice and rocks out here to help break my fall." Kyle rubbed the back of his head. "Really helpful. Totally didn't hurt at all."

"Alright, just-"

"Hey Stan? What the fuck was that?!"

Stan laughed nervously, shifting awkwardly in the car. "What the fuck was what?"

"You know damn well what! What the fuck was that, the whole grabby-trying-to-fucking-kiss-me that! That that! What the fuck was that?!"

"I don't know, I just… I just thought you might… Might… I just thought you might, you know?"

"No, I don't know! What the hell do you think you're doing?!

"I just… I…"

"Fuck Stan! You just what?"

"Oh, come on Kyle! Just… Just give it a chance, yeah? I mean, how do you know you won't like it? You've never even tried it!"

"I've never tried stabbing myself in the face but I'm pretty sure I won't like that!"

"Look, dude, just… Just please. We can just kiss and hug for a bit. We can just sit quite close to each other for a bit. I can just stare at you for an hour, drive you home, and then never speak to you again. We can just try it, just, just try something. Anything. Just please just try it. Or just think about it. Or just… Just do anything that might make you give it a chance, yeah? Just please. Please. I mean, it's not like it would be totally horrific, right?! Please Kyle."

Kyle groaned, pressing his hands back over his eyes, turning his face away from the car. He was freezing, lying in the snow, on the ice, surrounded by darkness, the thick snowfall. The icy, biting wetness was soaking slowly through his t-shirt, freezing his exposed arms. It was freezing him to the core. And he just lay there, on the ice and rocks, in the snow. He just lay in the beginnings of another South Park snowstorm.

"I cannot believe Stanley Marsh, Stanley fucking Marsh, the fucking all-star quarterback, the fucking homecoming fucktard, is leaning out a car, begging me to fuck him. This is seriously the most fucked up moment of my whole entire life. I mean, Jesus Christ Stan, Jesus Christ. I think I'd rather you have stabbed me. I literally wish you'd driven me out here to stab me. That would have been so much less fucked up then this."

"You're right, I know, this is weird. I know this is really fucked up. Look-" Stan clicked open the divers side door. "I'll get out the car too."

"You being in the car wasn't the fucking weird part!"

"I know, but I'll still get out the car anyway."

"Is this some joke to you, some fucked up game or something? Is Cartman recording this?! Are you all just playing with me?! Oh my God, this is all just a game to you, isn't it? You're just playing some fucked up game at my expense!"

"Of course not! Of course not." Exhaling, Stan crouched down next to Kyle, running his hands through his hair. He was kneeling in the ice and snow, just looking down at Kyle lying there, still awkwardly sprawled across the ice and rocks. Ice cold and terrified. Stan was no longer haloed by the dusky interior car light, no longer sainted by that awful, sickly light. Now he was framed by the falling snow, lit up by the moon and the stars. The sliver white light of the real heavens. "Christ Kyle, I wouldn't fuck about, not with-not with-not about this. Not this. Not with you. Never with you."

"Then what the cat-in-hell are you doing?! Why… Why now?"

"I just, I can't do this anymore. I couldn't when we were younger. I mean, I was scared. I was thirteen. But… But it's not worth it, none of it is, not if I don't get to do it with you. I don't care about Wendy, or homecoming, or my stupid reputation. I don't care about any of that shit. I don't care about football or about being cool or about anything really. It's all stupid. It all sucks when I'm doing it without you. Everything sucks when I'm doing it without you. I'm not lying to you, I'm not playing a game. I… I love you. And I always sort of have, really."

"That's… That's super gay, Stan."

"I know, right?"

Kyle blinked. Stan was leaning down, leaning over him. He was kissing him, their mouths together. Their lips together. His tongue pressing against Kyle's lips. His fingertips brushing Kyle's cheek, tilting his face up, positioning him, ever so carefully. And Kyle was letting him. He was lying in the snow, half in the car, half out of it. He was wet, he was freezing. He had no idea what was going on. So he just lay there, on the ice and the rocks. Just letting him.

Because it wasn't horrific. It wasn't awful. It wasn't even bad. It was Stan. It was just Stan.

It'd always just been Stan.

Kyle broke away, pulling back. "You are as crazy as your fucking father, you know?"

Stan smiled, his fingertips still brushing Kyle's cheek. "Yeah, I know."

A/N – Apologies for the delay, and for the shortarse chapter. I had a real killer of an assessment due today, but hey, finally they kiss. It only took them 36,000 words! Thank you thank you for the reviews and favourites, one more chapter and this meandering mess is all over!