Disclaimer: South Park is not mine, but for you guys in the US, you can see it cut to shreds on the WB at twelve thirty.
Chapter Five: Confession Time
Stan impatiently waited, folding his arms; he tucked his mitten underneath. Normally, he'd say screw it or stand them up, but because this was Kyle, he remained. White breath clouds hung in the air- even by South Park standards, it was frigid. Watching his breath collect, he thought of a multitude of things he'd rather be doing, all of them inside. Yet the crunch of snow to his left and Kyle's sense erased all other plans. It was like when Kyle was around; he was powerless to think of anyone or anything else. Kyle…
Kyle scanned the perimeter to ascertain no one trailed him. Though he soon affirmed this, Kyle looked both haunted and hunted. The setting sun and time of year ensured the temperature would drop rapidly. Whatever Kyle had to say, he'd better make it quick. He had no intention of freezing his balls or any other part of his body off, thank you very much. (Though if shivering a little meant he'd receive the whole story, he might prefer it).
His pants constricted and he reminded himself steely this was just a meeting, nothing more. Kyle had no idea what passed through his mind, anyway. And unless he spoke first, he wasn't apt to. Nonetheless, he stared at his hat and wondered what his red curls would feel like. Damn it, bad thoughts. Besides, he wanted nothing to do with him until he figured the mess out.
"What the hell is going on?" Stan hissed as the Jewish boy halted close enough to share body heat. Unbidden blushes spread across their faces and they stood inches within each other. Close enough to kiss...
"Cartman," Kyle growled and yearned to transform into a dragon to rip him to shreds. Perhaps some of this showed in his face because Stan unconsciously retreated several paces. When Kyle snapped, he hated bearing the brunt. Then again usually it was Cartman's fault.
Snow crunched in the distance; Kyle cringed and stared, seeing nothing but fearing the worst. Those heavy footfalls he'd heard too many times in the past not to recognize them instantly. What a fool he'd been to hold that conversation where he'd overhear him. Why hadn't he tried code or obscured his meaning? Was his compulsion to see him great enough to temporarily drive logic away? What on earth was he thinking?
Sadly, he reflected it'd be just like him to grant him a head start. Dangling false hope and then snatching it at the last split second sent him into throes of ecstasy. Gritting his teeth, he gauged how long he'd have. Unfortunately, he doubted longer than a few minutes at best.
What was he supposed to tell him? Could he bear to confess the secrets in his journal? Would Stan reject him and cast him away because he was in love with him? Cartman insisted Stan was straight and openly mocked Kyle when he caught him staring. Then again, this was Cartman they were talking about. He was probably bullshitting.
Sooner or later, though, he'd pry the truth out. Yet enduring it would be like having a tooth extracted. It was remain Cartman's slave and never share his affections or share his affections and risk losing Stan forever. Neither prospect terribly appealed to him, but at least the latter showed promise. Stan might not reject him…he might feel the same…but the chances were slim to none.
"You aren't really his boyfriend, are you? You-" Stan began, frowning and shifting slightly. Stormy gray eyes flashed at the thought of the rotund boy that intimate with his best friend. He'd never admit it, but he was insanely jealous. When he'd kissed him on the bus and then again in the cafeteria, he'd mentally shoved him away and tried it himself. At least in his vision, Kyle never vomited.
Plunging recklessly, Kyle decided it was now or never. God knew how close Cartman was and if he didn't take the initiative now, he'd lose his chance. Time was running out steadily like blood from an open flesh wound. Nausea rocked his stomach, completely the unpleasant sensation.
At his side his fingers curled and unfurled. Anxiety clutched his heart and gripped tightly. His knees quaked. Thankfully, if he collapsed, the soft snow would break his fall. Of course, it'd be terribly cold, but beggars couldn't be choosers. No one in South Park had ever fallen on the grass or dirt to his knowledge.
"Cartman's blackmailing me," he whispered. "He discovered something of mine…and if anyone else discovered it, the damage would be horrific…"
Raising his head, anguish shone in his jade eyes. Stan's fingers ached to stroke his face but he restrained himself. Until he discerned his true intentions, he didn't want to risk coming onto him and being rejected. But maybe one touch…Kyle…
Kyle neglected to mention the "damage" would be mostly to their friendship and his great fear of rejection. Inside his mitts, his hands sweated profusely and his heartbeat thundered in his head. Mentally, he cursed his hesitation and anxiety. It was like facing his mother only exponentially worse because telling his mother he loved her was downright expected. Telling his best friend was an entirely different story- Stan neither anticipated or, he thought as his stomach churned, wanted it.
"What damage? What the hell does he have? You know if he tries anything, I'm on your side. You can tell me anything," Stan murmured and smiled encouragingly. Kyle swallowed hard and, removing a sweaty palm, brushed his cheek with his bare hand. Sparks flew and his hand slid across his cheek. The raven haired boy smiled back and placed his hand atop his. Neither breathed.
"Stan, I love y-" Kyle stammered and a hard clap on the shoulder sent him staggering. The contact broke between the two and his hand was so frigid, it ached. On his face, he never noticed the temperature.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? Maybe I should put a leash on you!" Cartman barked and shoved Stan into the snow bank. Sputtering indignantly, he landed on his back like a crab. Brushing himself off, he rose quickly and glared at him. Electricity sparked between the three, most of it directed squarely at Cartman.
Obstinately, Stan rejoined Kyle and almost roped a possessive arm around his waist. Kyle's words hadn't sunken in yet, but his subconscious understood immediately. It shifted him still closer to his best friend and swung his hand around to knock against his. Their fingertips brushed and delightful adrenaline coursed through his veins. He felt giddy, like a kid around Christmas.
"You're blackmailing him?" Stan said casually, but none were deceived. The clockwork in his head trudged slowly forward. Kyle loves…Kyle loves…
"You told him?" Cartman hissed and yanked Kyle's hand until the bones crunched together. Kyle yelped, punching him away and massaging his tender hand. Stan's gaze burned holes in Cartman's face and he affectionately hoisted his hand into his own for inspection. Both boys' hearts drummed in their chests.
Maybe…maybe he feels the same way…he thought, blushing profusely. Stan's fingers caressed his hand inside his mitten. If only Cartman hadn't interrupted…but was there a point in telling him if he didn't feel the same? Did he? The only way to know was to ask.
"You told him you're in love?" Cartman snickered and the color drained from Kyle's face like a popped balloon deflated. His right hand, the one Stan continued to caress, quivered. If Cartman blurted it out, they'd both be finished. Stan'll hate me…
"No!" Kyle blurted, panicking. "No, I didn't! I didn't tell him! He doesn't know anything!"
"Know anything about what?' Stan interrupted, cocking an eyebrow. He still held his hand and though frostbite settled in, Kyle scarcely felt it. Cartman's eyes darted to their clasped hands and he snorted derisively. Unconsciously, the two shifted closer yet and Kyle had a bizarre desire to kiss him in front of the fat boy and end this charade. At least then he'd be free…
"You're acting like two fags in love and he didn't tell you? Oh, this is sweet! You'll be having sex and he still won't say he's in love-" he quipped and grinned maliciously.
"Shut the fuck up, fat boy!" Kyle roared, fed up. He wrenched his hand from Stan's and propelled himself at him. A melee of fists and feet later, Kyle growled at the heavily bleeding brown haired boy. Cartman panted and gawked. Not that he had believed Kyle wouldn't snap- he couldn't fathom the hatred surging in his eyes. The contrast between the two glances, Stan loving and his loathsome, startled him.
"Dude, are you in love with me?" he asked, finally computing everything. One glance at his face confirmed his query. Again, both boys blushed profusely and Stan proffered a helping hand. Rising awkwardly, Kyle leaned heavily on him, even when he was completely upright. Kyle twisted and Stan exhaled sharply, relishing his best friend's body against his. So close…
Jealousy contorted the rotund boy's face and he looked murderous. Of course his plan would fall through. Of course Stan would have a boner for Kyle. It all made sense- God hated him. God loved to shove someone or something in his face only to yank it away at the last second. God was a worse bastard than he was.
If they kissed, then he would flee with his heart in his hands. Already he saw the intent in their eyes and Stan buried his hand under Kyle's hat and in his hair. Kyle smiled back and they drew closer. Bile rose in Cartman's throat and he despised Stan immensely. If he hadn't interfered…if he hadn't been here…Kyle wouldn't be about to kiss him…this was more than he could stand…
Stan extracted his right hand from its captivity and stroked Kyle's face. The latter shut his eyes tightly and silence descended as he brushed his lips against his. Neither wanted to rush things, but both yearned to shorten the light touch and increase the pressure dramatically. Kyle was the first to open his mouth and jab his tongue at his lips; Stan acquiesced immediately, his own darting out to frolic. Kyle's arms snaked possessively around Stan's waist and Stan's around his neck.
Rooted to the spot, Cartman's whole body lost feeling and he stared, strangely numb. Stan and Kyle made out in front of him and he couldn't move. He couldn't even bring himself to look away. They were in heaven and he finally understood what hell was like. Hell was watching the person you love making out with the person they love…who isn't you.
When Stan broke the kiss to suck Kyle's neck, his legs responded and he ran like a bat out of hell. Whatever they did afterwards he didn't know, because he was far away. At least there, he didn't have to hear Kyle moan Stan's name.