Kyle stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, disappointed at what he saw. What did he see you may ask?

Fat. Too much of it. It was disgusting, he was disgusting.

"Worthless." He mumbled to himself, Staring down at his feet instead of his stomach, not wanting to see the big squishy mass anymore. He sighs, walking over to the shower and turning on the water as hot as it will go, so hot that the mirrors fog up even before he enters the shower. It burns but it feels good.

Now what to do about this little, or should he say 'big' problem? What was he doing wrong? He had been eating healthy and exercising everyday for the past month and he had only lost 5 pounds. He now weighed 120 pounds and he was 5'5. His BMI was 20.0. Both his weight and BMI were much too high, he had to do something about it and obviously dieting and exercising 3 times a week wasn't enough, so then what was? Maybe he should just stop whining about his weight and starve himself, he thought with a small smirk.

…starve himself? That certainly sounded like a most appealing option, it was bound to be the fastest way to lose weight, that along with a healthy amount of exercise of course.

So… why not?

Well, he thought, watching his chest rise and fall as water drizzled down his arms and down the shower drain.

Well… he couldn't think of a reason why not, except maybe that people would notice that he wasn't eating, but then again, who cared enough about him to notice…? Well, if it was going to be a problem then maybe he'd just wear baggy clothes, it's not like he wore tight clothes to begin with, he didn't want to think of what people would say if he ever wore tight clothes, he couldn't and didn't want to picture it. Not one bit. He was fat enough as it was, he didn't need to be reminded of it.

Kyle sighs, isn't this the kind of thing a girl of his age would worry about…?. And anyway, he can't just starve himself, it just isn't healthy. He was way too smart for that. He would just have to find another, more effective way to lose weight, more effective than what he'd been doing the past month anyway.

He turns off the water and steps out of the shower into the steamy air of the bathroom. The mirror is fogged up, thank God. Now he doesn't have to look at his plump stomach. He dried off using one of the fluffy white towels his mother had bought just the past weekend. When finally dry and clothed he walked out of the bathroom and into his own room. He throws his dirty clothes and towel into the laundry basket beside his door then flops down on his bed. Not even 5 minutes after laying down he hears someone make their way up the stairs

"Kyle?" came Ike's voice from the hallway.

"Yeah?" Kyle asked.

"Dinner's ready." Ike said, peeking around his door.

"Great…" He mutters. How was he supposed to lose weight when his parents probably cooked the fattiest meals they could?

"Did you say something?" Ike questions

"No, nothing. Forget it, Ike."

"'K, but seriously, hurry up. We've been waiting for you to get out of the shower, dinner was ready 10 minutes ago… didn't you hear me knock on the bathroom door earlier?" Kyle stands up as Ike goes back into the hallway, waiting formKyle expectantly.

"No." He said innocently enough, as it was true, and walked out of his room and down the stairs with Ike.

At dinner he eats a little less than usual, he could cut back on fatty foods, like meat and fatty drinks like milk, both of which were on his plate and in his cup at the dinner table. He picks around the steak and only eats vegetables and his motzoh ball soup. Once he's done he stands up and collects his plate and bowl.

"Is there something wrong with the stake, bubbalah?" Sheila asks Kyle.

"No, of course not, I'm just not that hungry is all." He lies simply, walking towards the kitchen sink. Sheila smiles at Kyle when he passes,

"Oh, okay Kyle, I was just wondering."

"Okay." Kyle says putting his dishes in the sink and walking back up the stairs to his room. Once there he pulls out his laptop and searches 'How to lose weight,' and after a few moments of surfing through websites depicting healthy eating and excercise he finally mutters: "This is stupid." and closes the laptop. If he wants to lose weight he is going to have to do it by himself.

He gets up and walks down the stairs to the basement, there he steps onto the treadmill and turns it on, starting off with a light jog which turns into a steady running pace.

After about 2 hours his legs feel numb and shaky but he continues to push himself. He's nearly on the verge of throwing up when he hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs, he turns his head and sees that it's Stan.

"Hey dude." Kyle greets, his breathing heavy and heart beat irregular

"What's up?" Stans asks, coming closer to the treadmill and Kyle, looking at the time his eyes widen. "Dude, 2 hours? Seriously?"

Kyle laughs it off

"Yeah, I was only walking for the most part, though that's the usual amount of time for someone to be on a treadmill, though it's not like you'd know, as you never use one." Kyle said, turning off the treadmill and stepping off, putting his hands on his shaky knees.

"How do you know I've never used a treadmill?" Stan smirked.

"Well, have you?" Kyle retorted with a smirk of his own. There was a moment of silence before Stan spoke again,

"No, I guess I haven't. I'm more of a weights guy." Kyle rolls his eyes, he already knew that.

"That's what I thought, Mr. Muscle head." He jokes, "so what brings you here?" Kyle stared at him expectantly. "Surly you're not back for more sex, we already did it in the bathroom at school today." They both make their way over to the couch and sit down.

"Can't I just come and see my boyfriend without being accused of wanting to do dirty stuff to him?" Stan says and Kyle laughs.

"I guess." He says, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Stan, as he was 5" taller than him, Kyle has to force his face to stay straight as Stan presses his lips against his own, and opens his mouth to allow Stan's and his tongue to intertwine and tangle together. He totally came here to do dirty stuff to him, afterall. Stan places his hand under Kyle's shirt, causing Kyle to shudder and move away.

"Don't." He says, his face burning up.

"What?" Stan asks quietly, eyes still closed as their noses and foreheads touching lightly.

"Don't touch my stomach." Kyle says.

"Why?" Stan quirks an eyebrow.

"Because I asked you not to, isn't that enough?" Kyle glares and Stan opens his eyes to look at him confusedly.

"Not really," Stan says, grinning "Why?" He asks again. "I haven't seen you with your shirt off in ages."

"Never mind, just don't do it again."

"Why though?"

"I said never mind. God." Kyle growls. Stan looks at him with a stupid look on his face.

"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, don't."

"It's nothing, really."

"Okay." Stan said, watching him closely. "Can you ask your mom if I can stay over tonight? Shelly is visiting from college and she's making my life a living hell."

"That sucks, but it's a school night."

"Can you just ask?"

"I'll ask," Kyle pauses for a moment "But I know what the answer will be, and so do you."

"Fine, fine, don't ask. But I'm staying here until your mom kicks me out." Stan says, bending over and pressing his lips to Kyles.

"Okay." Kyle says when they both pull away for air.

"Okay." Stan said.

And they go back to loving one another.